


Always landing on their feet

by gonebookin (orphan_account)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: 'cos dogs are important, AU where everyone is happy(er), Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, domesticated!mike
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gonebookin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>School had reiterated its supposed importance time and time again. Had said that every moment spent - or, in some (most) people's opinion, wasted - played a role in what they would do, what they would be, who they would become...<br/>But Killua already knew. And that wasn't a goal or a dream; it was a fact.<br/>He didn't think that that would ever change. </p><p>Yet again, he never thought that a person like Gon could exist either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cleaning up the mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all began with an explosion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a taster sort of chapter; I've got ideas and stuff, but I don't have all the time in the world (darn it) SO! If this goes well, I'll continue on this, or make it my priority and, if not, then I'll work on other stuff I guess? I know it seems like the typical plot but it won't be as cliché as more stuff gets added though! I swear!  
> Constructive criticism welcome :)

The explosion was _completely_ accidental.

 

Killua had simply misplaced the dry ice into his water bottle, which was then screwed shut without realisation, which was then shaken whilst he was stretching, albeit more rigorously than necessary, but a stretch nonetheless.  
And it was a pure coincidence that the date of his detention conflicted with a family meeting, or rather family conference, about his future as heir of the company.  
Not to mention forgetting to ask Ms Krueger to change the date, alongside his fingers slipping on the (conveniently unlocked) school computers to block all contact from his parents.

What were the chances?

 

"Killua, remind me why you're here again?"

 

"I don't know... But wasn't that explosion massive?"

 

One of the few things that admittedly _was_ unforeseen was how his teacher had almost walked into the line of fire.  
It didn't make her reaction any less entertaining though.

 

"Listen here brat. I've got places I want to be, I assume you have places you want to be and I doubt that neither of us want to stay here any longer than we need to, so I suggest that you keep that trap of yours shut."

 

The warning (or threat, it was difficult to discern between the two when it came to the infamously angry Ms Krueger) did little to deter Killua, who leant back and propped his feet upon his vandalised desk. Unintentional vandalism of course; his compass just... happened to scratch anarchist symbols through his maths book.  
It wasn't his fault that they made the paper so thin, and the compass points so sharp, after all.

 

"How long we talkin' here? Half an hour? An hour? I could stay here all night, hag."

 

He didn't so much see as he did hear a vein popping upon his teacher's face, so the image of an angry flush and blonde eyebrows furrowed so deep it had to be leaving dents in her skull wasn't unnerving. If anything he was concerned, not for himself but for her health. Yet again, she had taught Killua for over a year now (thus had maintained the same range of facial expressions, strenuously, for the most part of a year) and not had any issues... that he knew of.

As he felt the familiar sensation of manicured fingers pinching his cheek, Killua pushed aside the worry and almost laughed at how easy she was to aggravate.

Maybe what was even funnier was how easily he could anger others, but he himself, a boy that had many (too many) reasons to be angry, took an infinitesimal time to feel the emotion.

Not that he didn't get mad.

But he viewed madness and fury as two completely separate things.

Thankfully, a knock at the door interrupted this train of thought, followed by another and another.  
What a beautiful knock.

 

"Come in!"

 

The second thing he almost laughed about that day was how quickly his teacher's anger dwindled upon the presence of the figure bouncing on the balls of their feet around the door.

What was decidedly _not_ humorous was how her fingers remained clamped onto his face, so as she walked, Killua unwillingly followed, like a kitten getting pulled along by the scruff of its neck.

Upon the sight of recognisable tuff of white hair and trademark blue hoodie, the figure's movements stilled. 

 

"Ah, Gon! Don't worry about cleaning today, this insolent little brat," Killua reined in a yelp at the unexpected tug to his cheeks. "here will do the job. You can have the day off."  
As soon as the pain subsided, the name was registered and Killua also stilled.

Gon... Gon Freecss.

He was the person who sat next to him in Maths, the boy who stared at him a lot. Not that Killua didn't stare either; it was hard not to. Watching him struggle was always entertaining.

(Though, the fact that he wasn't bad to look at might've played a unknowing role too.)

However, that wasn't the reason he startled. Being stared at wasn't out of the ordinary for a Zoldyck. It was something else.

It wasn't news that Gon had the potential to be popular - his bright personality attracted people like moths to light. But, that's how it remained.

A potential.

He wasn't a loner, far from; there were older students and members of staff he hung out with most of the time and he did seem to talk to people a lot, just not on the same status as he had the possibility of gaining.

The _very_ high possibility of gaining.

What rendered this a mere possibility wasn't because of others, but because of Gon. For reasons unknown, he had a reputation of turning down invitations: be it to dates or to clubs, or to just hanging out in general. If it were to isolate himself (something Killua could emphasise to) then it had the complete opposite effect. If anything, it motivated people more. It motivated people to solve the very significant school mystery as to why these invitations were turned down.

 

_How could anyone turn down the chance to hang out with them, the best-looking, most hilarious and incredibly likeable people in the entire school, if not, the world?_

 

This motivation lead to an obscene obsession about everything about Gon which meant a, surpassing stalkerish, interest in what he said, what he did, who he talked to...

Which lead to the reason Killua startled.

Contrary to his outward countenance of generally 'not giving a shit', Killua often did 'give a shit' when it came to people's knowledge of his personal life. If you would call the hell he went through a life, anyway.

No one knew that his future was getting decided for him.

No one knew that it wasn't a future he wanted. At all.

No one knew what he really wanted to do, who he really cared for, why he couldn't do what he wanted to do.

No one knew anything about him, only that he was some boy with freakishly white hair in their class that just so happened to be the future leader of the Zoldycks.

Needless to say, he didn't want to get roped into their detective work, lest anyone get interested again, lest he get investigated again.

A sudden spike of pain coursed from his clutched cheek at the thoughts of image and reputation, as if reminding him of how weak his must appear, of how strong he _has_ to appear. Killua began to pull at the fingers clamped onto his face, a futile attempt to escape Ms Krueger's never-wavering grip.

 

"No, no, no I'll still help out!"

 

The near-frantic clawing halted in disbelief at Gon's insistence. Disbelief at how he wasn't jumping at the opportunity, disbelief of how he wasn't scared away because of the idea of cleaning with a stranger - with Killua, the last person you'll want to be cleaning a room with.

Killua wondered as to why someone wouldn't accept the offer:

Pity? There were many class'mates' who attempted to sit next to Killua but, after noticing the tension and his lack of interest, soon left. Gon wasn't one of them. 

Obligation? But if that was why, then he would've said he'll do it another time - that way he could make up for the loss and avoid Killua.

Kindness? It was the most probable reason, Gon was one of those weird naturally nice people after all. But it didn't seem enough of a explanation when coupled with that bright smile, a smile too bright for the situation at hand and all aimed at Killua. No, there was no way that it could be the reason - Killua hadn't done anything for him to deserve that kindness. He hadn't done anything to deserve anyone's kindness.

Why Killua was so interested was a mystery in itself.

He didn't seem to be the only one interested in something though; Amber eyes were darting over his face, as if imprinting each feature to memory. It left an uncomfortable, foreign heat searing his cheeks that was decidedly not down to the fingers pinching them.

 

"Are you sure? Killua wouldn't mind doing all the work, he seems to be asking for some sort of work by the way he's been acting."

 

A part of him was tempted to admit what he really wanted: a couple of hours of sleep to avoid his overbearing family. But, as with all matters concerning himself, he kept quiet and scowled at the first thing he could lay his eyes on.

Well, second thing.

He didn't really want to scowl at Gon's face.

 

"No, no! That's fine!"

 

"Well, Alright then. But! That doesn't mean Killua gets to dump all the work on you," There was a knowing tilt to her tone that went unnoticed by both boys. "If any work at all gets done anyway."

  
Eventually, she loosened her vice-like grip. Resisting the urge to leap away like a skittish creature, Killua slowly rubbed his cheek.

 

"Since when did detention involve actual work?" He mumbled, glaring at the brooms poking out of the closet. He wondered if he would still be forced to clean if they somehow got set on fire. Alas, there was only so much excitement school could handle, and expulsion would not work in his benefit. School was more time away from his house, and as boring as it could be, time away was savoured.

  
"The second you set off that explosion."

 

"Not my fault; it wouldn't have happened if I had more guidance."

 

"I doubt you needed guidance to put dry ice in a test tube."

 

"Maybe if you weren't reading porn under your desk you would've noticed," Killua snickered at the surprise on Ms Krueger's face, "do you really think that you were being subtle? You might have well framed them and hung them on the wall it was so obvious."

  
"Brat!"

 

Before Killua was about to refute, he hesitated when he heard a soothing sound warm the room. It wasn't a noise he was accustomed to, warmth wasn't a thing he was accustomed to either, so a combination of the two was more overwhelming than he liked to admit.

It was laughter; an assortment of snorts and giggles, but it... wasn't _not cute._

When he felt his lips twitching in response, he stretched his hand to cover the lower half of his face.

 

"When should we get started then, Miss?" Gon's voice was as soothing as his laughter and it didn't help Killua's twitching mouth; it infuriated it in fact, made it verge on unbearable. He wondered if this was why Gon was so likeable - the contagiousness.

The urge to smile.

 

"Now would be good. I'll be marking tests in the staffroom so I expect a sparkling clean room by the time I'm finished boys!"

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Killua didn't even get the chance to feel dread. Within seconds of the door slamming shut, his personal space was shattered. Every attempt to reclaim it was in vain; each time he shifted back, Gon shifted ever so slightly closer, not intimidatingly, but instead similar to a puppy springing into view for attention.

 

"You were the one to do the explosion Killua?"

 

"Well, I didn't get harassed by a teacher for nothing."

 

"Whoa! That's so cool!"

 

"Harassment isn't cool." His cheek throbbed in agreement.

 

The grin that was ever-present upon Gon's excited face somehow grew in size.

 

"I meant the explosion, but I think it was pretty cool how you could cope with all that as well." He prodded Killua's face to gesture what he meant. Killua flinched at the contact, internally berating himself over how he let his personal space get invaded for the second time.

 

"S'not a big deal, just science."

 

"It's still super cool! Your lab partner must've loved it!"

 

"N-Not really," He left out explaining how no one wanted to be his partner. Something that worked in his favour of course. "I don't think anyone would appreciate an explosion disrupting their lesson to be honest."

 

"I would have!"

The talk of explosions was making his face boil.

"I'm gonna go get the cleaning stuff, okay?"

 

Afraid of how cracked his voice would sound, Killua offered a stiff nod.

As Gon rummaged through the mess of equipment in the cupboard, Killua noticed his phone screen light up through the confinements of his pocket, where he hoped it would remain the moment he entered the classroom. It wasn't buzzing, so it went ignored. He knew his family's limits and he knew that they weren't at it.

Yet.

He forced his contemplative face into a disinterested one when he saw Gon approaching, buckets and brooms in hand, back towards the desk.

 

"Do you know how long Miss will be?"

 

"An hour and a quarter, maybe a half. Long enough to clean this shithole."

Gon sighed and visibly slumped at this. Killua could feel his stomach clench at the display; he knew his reputation was far from good, but was it really that bad? He covered up his disappointment with a sigh of his own. 

"I know, it's gonna be a while,"

 

"No! It won't be long enough!"

 

"...Huh."

 

"I want to spend more time with you than that," Gon elaborated, grinning at the pink flourishing on the other's face. "We have no lessons together, except maths, but even then we don't get to talk much and-"

 

"We should probably get this over with, then." Killua spluttered, covering the cracks in his voice with a chain of coughs.

 

"Mhm!" Gon sprung off of the desk to reach for the equipment, oblivious to the way Killua dragged his hand down his face in exasperation. "It means we'll get more time to talk, anyway!"

 

Just about when Killua was going to question his deteriorating sanity, his phone buzzed.

It was what he was expecting to hear at some point... but not so soon, too soon.

Way too soon.

Goosebumps prickled his skin like knives.

To ignore? To have a mockery of freedom for a while longer? Or to answer; to face the inevitable and avoid the consequences?

He didn't realise how much time had passed until he felt the sweat on his palms oozing onto his face, paralysed in place, unsure whether or not reach for its tormentor.  
No conscious decision was made, only on autopilot, plucking his phone out of his pocket with quivering fingers.

The phone vibrated twice more.

Before... 

He ended the call.

The call was ended.

_Killua_ had chosen to end that call.

 

"Shouldn't you have answered that?" Gon murmured softly, hand hovering over Killua's shoulder. Even from the distance, Killua could feel the warmth emanating from it, through his thick winter layers.

 

"Nah, it's fine-"

 

It began to ring again.

The victory was short lived indeed.

 

"You can get started without me,"

 

"Bu-"

 

"I'll only be a sec."

 

He was out of the door before he could hear a reply, oblivious of how Gon's eyes lingered on the ghost of where he once was, of how his stance was tensed, conflicted between following or not; not wanting Killua to leave but knowing that it might have been for the best.  
Even as unknowing as he was, Gon was still acutely aware of how Killua wavering steps betrayed cool and confident words, of how his feet were treading shakily, forced movement akin to pushing two same sides of a magnet together.

Gon stayed still. 

Killua's back grew smaller and smaller until the door creaked shut, blocking what remaining view there was and plummeting the room into emptiness.  
Gon stayed still several moments longer until he blinked and the spell was broken. He had a feeling that Killua wouldn't be just a minute, nor was the situation 'fine'. But Gon knew that if he needed space, he would do was give him it. He busied himself in beginning to clean, eyebrows furrowing as he resisted the urge to act on his instincts.

 

It was difficult not to be selfish.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Killu, why did you hang up on me?"

 

The quiet suck of breath echoed through the empty hallway. For once, Killua cursed the corridor's lack of rowdiness.

 

"I... It was an accident."

 

"Like the explosion? And the computer hacking?" The silence was enough of an answer. "Killu, why are you avoiding this? It's your future, remember? Don't you want to do your family proud?"

 

"H-How?-"

 

"Ah, I had some intel from your acquaintances," Illumi had a way with words, never failing to make Killua feel isolated, separate from everyone else.

 

 

 

  
_Alone._

 

"Why didn't you tell us where you were at? Mother was getting worried,"

 

"But... If you knew about the explosion, then wouldn't you know?"

 

"But if I weren't to have done that, then imagine how we would've felt," He tutted to drill the imagery into Killua's mind. "Skipping out on the impossible, I thought you were raised better than that,"

 

_He didn't know how much more he could take._

 

"This is ungrateful Killua, imagine how many people would want to have your life right now,"

 

_But it wasn't what he wanted._

 

"Even if you were to do anything else, you couldn't. You're best subject is business, and every other subject is only a small section of business. You'll be the most successful this way, it's for your own benefit,"

 

_There were other things. Loads are other things. Anything that **wasn't** business._

 

"Ah Killu," He could hear an exasperated sigh from over the line. More disappointment.

 

_How could anyone be proud of a failure of a Zoldyck like him anyway?_

 

"Have you forgotten our deal?"

 

The word _deal_ sliced through the haze of self-hatred. How could he forget? How could he be so selfish to forget about that? He could feel his jaw clench, aching with overuse.

 

"I remember, I- I'm coming back now."

 

There was a pause. Not a pause to give Killua the chance to rethink what he had said, but rather to rethink why he chose not to say it in the first place.

 

"Good boy, be quick."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Abiding by his brother's words, Killua prepared to leave immediately. Immediately meaning no interruptions, meaning no Gon.

Which was a near impossible task.

If it weren't for his coat he had so stupidly - or perhaps purposefully - left in the dreaded room, then he might've been able to leave 'immediately'. But even if 'immediately' meant... well, right that instant, it was his favourite coat and there was not a chance that he would abandon it in the midst of winter.

As strong as he was, his immunity to illnesses was no match for the harsh pelts of rain and general coldness that the weather seemed more than happy to dish out.

Before he could consider that he was making excuses to enter, he was already in.

 

He knew that the call had lasted longer than a 'minute'.

Much longer.

But Killua didn't realise the extent of this until being greeted with the sight of a sparkling clean room and a weary teen slumped over a desk, snoring and snuffling softly into the temporary cushioning of a familiar coat.

 

_How long was a 'minute'?_

 

Killua tore his eyes away towards his now silent phone then back to the sight before him. It had been three quarters of an hour.

He didn't know what to be more impressed by: how long he was on the phone (or standing motionless in he hallway) for; how quickly Gon had cleaned up; how quickly he had fallen asleep or that he hadn't left as soon as the job was done. Whether or not he was waiting for Killua to come back, the overall effect was the same.

His heart was thumping furiously against his chest.

It was dark outside, darker everywhere in general, to the extent that he was almost tempted to wake Gon up to remind him to go home.

Almost.

But waking Gon would result in remembering why he didn't want to go back 'home' prior to Illumi's call. He settled on letting Ms Krueger have the job of waking him up; they can go back into school tomorrow and pretend that nothing had happened and leave Gon to gain friends at his own pace without Killua tainting his image.

 

The least he could do was let him keep Killua's coat, the one Gon's head was resting upon. It was killing two birds with one stone: Gon could have his comfort which in turn meant that by letting him have this comfort (not risking waking him up), there was no distraction.

Though, Gon was still a distraction, even when sleeping.

But a welcome one.

The expression of relaxation and the slight twitch of an ever-present smile was very welcome. Maybe that was what possessed Killua to shrug off his hoodie and drape it over Gon's shoulders.

 

He knew that needed to leave.

But couldn't he wait a bit longer? A bit longer to feel the warmth the other was emitting so heavily? The phone buzzed once, as if answering the internal questioning.

No; it doesn't, never did and never will.

 

['The deal, Killu.']

 

Killua heaved a sigh and rolled the cricks out of his shoulders. If he was going to run for this, he really didn't want aching joints.

He knew that this experience might never come again - it was the first time he had talked to a person his own age and had actually enjoyed it. But it was a memory, and would stay that way. Something to indulge upon when he was down.

 

When he opened the door, he felt a blast of cold breezing through the hallway.

 

_On second thought, that hoodie would be really useful..._

 

With one last look at Gon's relaxed form and beginnings of a sleepy smile on his face, Killua huffed and swiftly turned before changing his mind.

 

_I can deal with the cold._

 

The door creaked shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I snuck an undertale reference in there... it's so unnecessary and I'm so proud)  
> I swear I didn't listen to Undertale air horn and kazoo remixes whilst writing this...  
> Plus, I wouldn't recommend doing dry ice explosions without safety precautions and what not. Don't do a Killua! B)


	2. Breaking cycles and warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, the cycle continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad to see it was well received! Sorry it took a while; I've been busy with studying and I've been rewriting, probably too much, to make sure there's no errors and it's not... y'know, ENTIRELY shit.  
> Anyway, here ya are :)

And so, the cycle continued.

 

Awakening.

 

Escaping out of the house as quickly and as quietly as possible.

 

Buying chocorobots as an (emotionally) healthy breakfast from the corner store.

 

Flicking through an entertaining book on the bench in front of the school.

 

Falling asleep due to said entertaining book.

 

Getting awoken by Ms Krueger slamming the book shut on his face.

 

Reluctantly walking to class early with Ms Krueger because he could 'contract a cold' as 'he'd been stupid to not wear appropriate layers' and 'probably had a too weak immune system from living of a diet of sweets' despite his protests of 'I never get colds', 'he'd lost his coat somehow' and 'chocolate had been pretty effective for over half of his life so far.' With the Killua custom of 'what would you know, hag?'

 

Then the cycle continued again.

 

Flicking through the very entertaining book in the classroom.

 

Falling asleep again due to said very, _very_ entertaining book.

 

Getting awoken by the bell

 

What was decidedly _not_ a part of the cycle was some moment in the unconscious stage when he felt a warmth manifest across his back, embracing him like a comforting hug from behind, and heard a soft, hearty chuckle. Even in sleep, it felt like a dream; an occurrence so utopian that it couldn't exist. Shouldn't exist.

But despite this, it all felt familiar - something that had happened before.

He hoped it had happened before.

He hoped it would happen again.

When Killua jerked awake, he felt something slide off of him... two somethings. After recovering from the sudden exposure to the cold, Killua stooped to reach for the temporary blankets, but paused at the sight of a parker coat and a hoodie.

  
_His_ coat and _his_ hoodie.

  
He couldn't help but notice, as insignificant as it was, that although the blue had been bleeding out of it for a while, his hoodie seemed somewhat brighter.  
Instead of the usual barely distinguishable light azure, verging on murky grey, colour that soaked the entire material, it now appeared to be a tone closer to mouthwash blue.

After inspecting it closely for a few motionless minutes, then holding it up at different angles and in different ways, Killua deduced that it wasn't his eyes playing tricks, nor was it lighting, nor was it a figment of his imagination; it was brighter, cleaner.

  
_Better_.

 

He traced the fabric with his fingers, gathering it in his hands before bringing it up to his face to reaffirm its existence. His nose twitched at the scent of something earthy, something homely, something (another thing) all too familiar, contrary to it being the very opposite.

It felt softer, smelt purer.

A tentative smile braced his face at the thought, now fact, that what had happened the day prior had actually happened. As much as his pessimistic brain insisted upon it, it wasn't a scene conjured out of subconscious desperation, but it was real.

  
It had actually happened.

  
Feeling the smile stretch his face, he ducked his head, just before the steady stream of students he had just noticed entering the room could see.

 

"I'm guessing you didn't lose your coat then?" Of course, the trace of softness and glint of happiness in Killua's usually stoic ultramarine eyes didn't go unnoticed by Ms Krueger, who had hoped to use this new found expression to her benefit. Her grin broadened as Killua's face puffed into redness.

 

"S-Shut up!"

 

She didn't.

 

"Gon seemed really grateful, though a bit disappointed that you were asleep. Ah, if only you had gotten more sleep last night!" Her wide smile descended into a thin line instantaneously when Killua winced. His eyes were restored... no, deformed back to near midnight. Deformed back to normal - deformed to what shouldn't have been normal. "Killua, how much sleep do you get a night?"

 

"Enough to bear through your boring lessons," Killua fell back into his chair and closed both eyes shut from his teacher's permeating stare. "and on the rare occasion that I do, it's only because they're just _sooo_ dull I can't help it."

 

He haughtily lifted one of his heavy eyelids up to observe the reaction of the person he had hoped to be annoyed.

 

She wasn't.

 

"How much sleep have you been getting recently?" Ms Krueger reiterated, voice hushed to avoid attracting the attention of other students who were, thankfully, taking her absence to their advantage. She knew how easily self-conscious Killua was, even if it was expressed in a different way. She also knew his way of dealing with someone caring about him; but whether that was because of his upbringing, his inexperience with it (an idea that she really hoped wasn't the case, despite seeming the most likely) or whether he just disliked attention was another mystery, for another day.

 

"Teenagers are nocturnal creatures," Killua let his eye fall shut again, avoiding answering what the blonde was really asking as he had done time and time and time again, followed by the typical insult... and he wasn't planning to dissapoint: "but I guess you wouldn't know, that stage of life for you must've been eras ago after all."

 

Usually it was the comment about age that set her off; to slap him harshly; tug relentlessly at his cheek; lecture him angrily - anything that _wasn't_ concern.

 

She stayed still.

 

"You sleep in every lesson Killua, that's not normal."

 

"Maybe I'm pretending to sleep so I don't have to do work."

 

It was so far from the truth that it was almost laughable; Killua's lack of rest was evident, physically and - even as hard as he tried to hide it - emotionally. The school doctor had told her this many times, resorting to doing so after his yelling at Killua went unnoticed, or more probably, ignored.

 

_"God! He drives me insane! Why won't he listen to when other people want to help him?!" The doctor had all but screamed into his hands that were splayed across the bristles on his face in frustration._

_"It's what he does, he pushes people away," Ms Kruger had replied, sounding suprisingly even, although feeling the very opposite. "it shouldn't stop us though."_

_"What do you suggest then?"_

_Silence followed, one clogged with thought and consideration, a silence that usually trailed after the mention of a certain white-haired enigma._

_"We push back harder."_

 

Among other things, the doctor had said that Killua was too skinny, too sluggish, that his skin was too pasty and pale, his eyes too hollowed and not as bright as they could be - though whether this was down to lack of sleep alone was questionable.

Being strict wasn't the only thing Ms Krueger was notorious for - being stubborn was another attribute, both among teachers and students. If there was one thing she got consistently, that was results and if there was one thing she was going to get results for, it helping Killua, whether he wanted it or not. Seeing that light relinquished a spark of hope in her, a surge of confidence.

 

There was no way she was going to break her streak of success now.

 

But as concerning as Killua's health was, her job had to come first. Neither favouritism or motherly concern should interrupt what her real goal was. A sudden eruption of laughter from a group of particularly boisotorous pupils reminded her of this.

 

_But they were so happy and Killua was so... not._

 

"This conversation isn't over, you still have more detentions to attend to."

 

"Joy, joy."

 

And so the cycle went on.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Killua always had lowered expectations - it worked better that way. The lower the expectations, the more expectant he would be of the bad things and the less disappointed he would be of the happier things not happening.

It wasn't pessimism, nor was it realism, nor was it self-preservation.

It was common sense.

But he wasn't aware of how it would work in his favour when the happier things did, somehow, happen.

 

So when Gon approached him for the second time that day, he assumed the increasingly loud thudding in his chest was a side-effect of his mentality. Not a bad side-effect, but rather a confusing one; although the rapid beating hurt, he felt warm.

And he savoured warmth.

 

"Killua!" Heads were turned as Gon excitedly pulled a chair up to his desk.

 

Killua realised too late that the true side-effect of his mentality was that, because of not being expectant of the good things, he was unprepared.

Unsure of how to react.

Internally cursing and trying to formulate a proper sentence with his tied tongue, all Killua could do was gape, stunned into stillness. Realising that the coat and hoodie were still draped over his shoulders, in a vain attempt to replicate the previous warmth he had felt, he frantically pushed them under his desk.

 

"What d'ya want?" He managed to choke out, earning a few raised eyebrows from students, which, for once, he couldn't care less about - he was too absorbed in the mantra of _what am I supposed to do?_   to care. Gon was either oblivious or unconcerned about the look on Killua's face, as he continued to plonk himself onto the seat, golden eyes boring into sapphire ones, as if the whole situation were normal.

 

"Have you got detention today?" Gon blurted out, as if he had been bursting to know the answer. Killua almost laughed: his brain really was as desperate as he had thought if he had considered someone showing enthusiasm because of him. He cleared his throat, hoping it wouldn't sound as hoarse as he was feeling, before replying.

 

"Well, I caused an explosion in a science lab, violated school property, and wasted scientific materials, so what do you think?"

 

"So yes...?" After noticing Killua's sarcastic nod of affirmation, Gon beamed. "That's good, that's great! I'm starting to do cleaning after school regularly, so we'll get to hang out more!"

 

For the second time within minutes, Killua was stunned.

 

Gon Freecss, potential friend of _anybody_ , wanted to be a potential friend's with Killua, potential friend of _nobody_?

 

"No way..." Killua murmured, realising too late that the words in retaliation to his internal questioning had slipped out of his mouth. His eyes widened as he saw the beginning of a frown marring Gon's face; Killua could practically read, feel, the emotions going through his head.

 

Gon was sad.

No, that was an understatement.

He was distraught.

 

Killua didn't entirely understand _why_ Gon would feel that way, even if what Killua had said (accidentally or not) had seemed cruel, but it didn't stop him from slamming his hand onto the desk up and jumping out of his seat - _anything_ to stop Gon from getting sad, anything to make him feel happy again, back to normal.

 

"No!" People were noticing. The cacophony of hissing and distrustful mutters swept Killua off of his feet. He collapsed into his chair, stammering again, but quiet enough that only Gon should hear him. "I wasn't saying that to what you said, I was, I was-"

 

"Talking to yourself?" Gon filled in, his face now bright and free of what was there before. Killua heaved a sigh, thankful that Gon understood and that he had somehow made Gon feel miraculously better. He was so relieved that he almost missed the glint of amusement in round, amber eyes.

 

"I guess," Killua growled, without any bite, as the glint intensified and a giggle escaped Gon's lips. "What's so funny?"

 

"I was just thinking how you don't seem to be the kind of person who would do that."

 

"As if you can talk; you practically argue with yourself over trigonometry in maths all the time."

 

Gon smile turned downward into a pout, an expression Killua didn't feel bad for triggering because of the burst of warmth that coursed through his body as a result of it.  

 

"It's not my fault maths is so hard!"

 

Killua couldn't help it - all of his previously suppressed emotions erupted into full-blown laughter.

Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to care.

It felt good, it felt free.

 

Meanwhile, Gon was rendered still, watching in bewilderment as Killua actually _giggled_ , unsure of whether he felt surprised or overwhelmingly happy that he had caused the reaction. 

He was definitely happy. Killua's laugh was music to his ears and at each snort, chortle, noise, Gon could feel his grin broadening. But...

After sparing a quick glance to students around him, it was evident that they were a mixture of both; some girls that Gon suspected were (more than) interested in Killua were gazing at him with an expression of curiosity and perhaps longing. 

Something inside Gon began to churn, irritated that he wasn't the first and only person to witness the unseen side to Killua, but it quickly dissipated as the boy in question began to calm his laughter. 

He missed it already.

Gon directed his attention back to Killua, who was busy discretely wiping tears out of his eyes and chuckling quietly. Mistaking the expression on Gon's face for shock, he finally choked out a reply.

 

"Sorry, I haven't laughed in a while."

 

The churning inside Gon grew. He knew that a 'while' was an understatement - anyone who could see how hard Killua had laughed would've known that. But before he could say anything, the bell screeched. At the reminder of how in only a few long hours he would be spending more time, alone time, away from... everyone else with Killua, Gon's almost indistinguishable frown vanished instantly. The smile creeping across his face widened even more after noticing the brief flash of something in Killua's eyes.

The selfish part of him, the largest part of him, hoped it was disappointment.  

 

"So, I'll see you after school, right?" Gon bounced out of his seat, broad grin sparkling and amber eyes shimmering in the sunlight. Despite being momentarily blinded, Killua couldn't tear his eyes away.

 

"Mhm."

 

The blasé hum of approval and slight nod of the head did nothing to conceal the bright blue hues in Killua's eyes. It practically screamed the answer for him, the excitement, the enthusiasm.

 

_The happiness._

 

As Gon bounced out of the room, he wondered if his face showed the same expression.

 

The aching in his cheeks was enough of an answer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is welcome; I want to make it nice to read and hopefully improve, so I'm all for suggestions, possible improvements and all that jazz! B)


	3. Watched pots never boil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aunt Mito had always said; 'a watched pot never boils'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm sorry I'm not incredibly quick at this! Turns out I didn't have as much spare time as I thought. There's a BIT of a hint for Gon's backstory; this fic won't be Killua-centric, even if it seems like it right now, it's going to focus on more than one person...  
> Constructive criticism is welcome :)

If there was one saying that Gon would forever rememeber his Aunt Mito saying, it was that 'a watched pot never boils'.

 

She said it with a faux (even his younger self knew, _just knew_ , that the softness in her eyes betrayed another emotion entirely) irritation lanced across her features and a waggling finger as she drawled the words into Gon's premature head. He remembered asking lots, too many, of questions a lot, too much, of the time.

  
_Are we nearly there yet?_

  
_When will it be ready?_

  
_When will I get to see Ging?_

  
Time was of the essence - specifically to a spiky-haired little boy who couldn't stay still for minutes at a time. Needless to say; curiosity, eagerness and talkativeness was a combination Aunt Mito didn't appreciate. At all. Especially when it involved a certain relative.

 

It was common knowledge that Gon hadn't outgrown the curiosity, even if he wasn't as loose lipped or as impatient as he was before. Growing up with... things happening around him had given Gon a different, more mature outlook, one that had helped him grow out of his childish tendencies.

  
But being with Killua, even for a (regrettably) brief moment, had made him feel like a child again.

It made him feel elated, joyous, the happiest - the genuine kind, the kind that felt like a furnace in his core - he had felt in a while, among other emotions. Some simpler to understand than others.

 

Yet the saying never took effect - if anything, the pot boiled faster.

 

The rest of the day drifted by at a steady, not too fast and not too slow, relaxed pace since their meeting at break. It didn't mean that they weren't excited, far from, it was just that it had little to no negative impact on how they spent their remaining lessons.

  
_"Gon, we've got a while to go until we're there. Remember; **a watched pot never boils** , does it?"_

  
But perhaps, it depends on what part of the pot that is watched.

  
Perhaps time flew because they weren't focusing on what the pot would make, but rather, the process of what the pot was making.

  
Perhaps time flew because they were too preoccupied thinking about what had happened as well as what would happen.

 

As well as what _could_ happen.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gon had spent his last couple of lessons out of focus.

It was an occurrence that was unexpected for those who had only seen him in class, but for others, it was not. School was another thing he could focus on, the thing he preferred to focus on, giving him the appearance of a hardworking student. Having a one track mind was effective in that sense, his (just about) adequate grades had only his dedication to thank after all, but it also meant that when there was another matter more important at hand, it couldn't be done.

Or rather, it _wouldn't_ be done.

 

Killua was one of those matters.

 

So, Gon's lesson was spent failing to write down notes in accordance to what he was failing to be taught; thoughts of his white-haired friend and the study of DNA cluttering together to create an illegable mess of incorrect information with the, more than, occasional legible 'Killua' scattered in between.

Gon gave up on scratching them out, a defeat he accepted with open arms.

  
Not only was there a ridiculous amount of repeats of his name, but Gon felt bad crossing them out - Killua's name looked nice written on paper, almost as nice as it was to say. Because of this, he body couldn't seem to accept even approaching crossing through them; his fingers twitched so much that he had to retreat before losing his grasp on his pen. 

 

He hoped the quick apology for his teacher at the top of the page would suffice.

 

 

 

On the other hand, Killua had spent his time as per usual; avoiding work as much as he possibly could. Aside from sleep - which was a thing that he couldn't ever be physically capable of after meeting the most energetic, no, the most _energizing_ person, in the whole school - the best option was looking through the window.

 

He wasn't originally next to the window, but he had taken the initiative to ask (though it may have been conceived as a threat) the person that sat there and so, they swapped.

It was worth the effort.

Looking outside was almost as efficient as it was cliché: not only could he ignore the useless scribbling on the board, he could also avoid acknowledging that other people existed.

 

Which was a thing he always appreciated having the opportunity to do.

 

And so, Killua's lesson was spent acutely noticing the signs of winter ending. It was still considered too early for the season to end, yet leaves were already fighting to sprout upon gnarled branches and the dreary sky was beginning its transition from greyish to mouthwash blue, not unlike the shade of Killua's reformed hoodie. The hoodie that was discretely draped across his lap under the desk, radiating just the right amount of warmth to be comforting, but still not enough.

As much as he tried, it never felt enough.

 

_It never felt right._

 

The clouds were beginning to make way for the sun too; pliantly disseminating to expose the people below to the heat, to the yellow sphere that seemed to brighten people's days.

Normally, Killua wasn't one of those people. He usually despised being blinded, being unable to see. Heat was another thing he hated - he thrived on coldness, so being hot burnt, a sensation similar to dipping your toes into bathwater after fighting through a blizzard. Winter was also darker, more shadows, more black, more areas to hide. He liked the streets when it was darker, so that the only sign of life was the faint wisps of breath.

Spring discarded all of these things, and made way for an absolute contrast.

 

But, despite it all, Killua couldn't hep but feel strangely enthused by the idea of it. It was a thing that was out of the norm, there was a thing that the scene lacked. Wistfulness. Instead, it was replaced by a happiness that rolled off of him in relaxed waves.

  
The only other, more significant, substantially more significant thing different from the norm was the faint vibrating that emanated from Killua's pocket.

  
It, and the message it bore, went unnoticed:

 

**[I'm taking you home today, Kil.]**

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Gon's luck had run out by the end of the day.

 

Not only did his class get let out late, but the door was clogged by a blockade of whispering students, which Gon was considering trampling through until their interest was centred around him.

 

 

"Gon!" A group of people had surrounded him in a loose circle. Gon watched their mouths move but didn't have the capacity to take in their words. As they talked, Gon could only think about how the gap between each person was more than enough to slip through, but an obligation to be polite kept him fidgeting but reluctantly stationary. "Are you free today?"

 

 

Gon raised his eyebrow slightly in confusion - this question again? He momentarily crossed his fingers behind his back and hoped that Killua wouldn't disappear like last time.

 

 

"No, sorry! I'm busy!"

 

 

He heard an exhale of disbelief. Or was it disappointment? He was too focused on the steadily widening gap to care.

 

 

"You always say that," A high pitched voice said.

 

 

"But it's true!" Gon was on the cusp of shouting, but reigned it in- he wanted to get out quick, after all.

 

 

"Surely you can't be busy everyday though?"

 

 

Gon's jaw twitched.

 

 

"I am."

 

 

The gap between each person grew ever so slightly smaller, as did the rim of bronze around Gon's pupil.

 

 

"With that Zoldyck?"

 

 

Gon could feel something inside of him churn at the person's tone, at Killua's second name. It sounded so out of place, so... wrong, that he was tempted to correct them with his first name, _actual name_ , with the tone Killua deserved. Still, the mention of Killua perked him up a little, and he nodded enthusiastically.

 

 

"Today I am, yeah!"

 

 

There was a brief moment of silence before they all burst into laughter. Gon stood there dumbstruck, blinking rapidly as he digested what was happening around him.

  
Something inside him snapped. No... the change was akin to switching off a light switch, something quick and snappy, a change that could be seen as well as heard, more so than something merely snapping.

  
A growl vibrated through the classroom and it was only when wide eyes were blinking at him, that he realised where it came from.

 

 

_"What's so funny?"_

 

 

The words were hushed, verging on threatening. But there was no way that could be; it was Gon Freecss after all, the very definition of soft and caring - the exact opposite of threatening. Maybe that was what made the blank, or rather lack of, expression in his entire demeanour all the more terrifying.

 

 

"N-Nothing!"

 

 

The crowd quickly dispersed, almost as quickly as the declining darkness that oozed from Gon's face, seconds prior.

The light switch was flicked back the right way.

Noticing that the gap was finally wide enough to get through, he grinned in the vague direction of where the students had refuged and continued on his way to the exit, the way out, the way to Killua.

But paused when a boy stuttered something out, only loud enough for Gon to hear. The words were tentative, so quiet that he would have had to strain to hear them if he had the average hearing.

 

 

"Do you like him?"

 

 

Gon looked around, seeing the timid boy toying with his sleeves anxiously, eyes darting pointedly away from Gon, with a blush sporting his hair-covered face.

 

 

"Of course!"

 

 

" _Like_ , like him?" The boy finally looked up at Gon with a borderline pleading expression written across his face, but for what Gon was unsure.

 

 

He frowned, not in consideration of the question but rather consideration of why the question was inquired in the first place. 

 

_What was there not to like about Killua?_

 

 

"Yeah!"

 

  
There was no denying that patience was one of Gon's strong suits, but patience did little to quench his desperation, his need, to leave. Gon was following by priorities and the small, sullen inhale from the quiet boy was nowhere near close to being one.

 

 

"I'm in a bit of a rush, sorry! Killua's waiting for me!"

 

 

Gon was out of the door before he could hear the strange choking noise the boy let out.

 

Though, he doubted that it would have changed a thing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I rambled a bit about pots and it probably sounds like gibberish, but it made sense in my head at midnight okay?!  
> ALSO IMPORTANT QUESTION! I don't know whether to set it in a typical Japanese high school or not, so if you could lemme know in the comments that'll be cool :) It's not going to be important for plot, but it's for detail and everyone loves detail, right?


	4. Hot, boiling and burning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the only sign of imperfection in the otherwise immaculate room, ruining the cleanliness in one measly mustard-yellow splodge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, some bonding time! :)  
> Writing Killugon fluffiness is strangely therapeutic... I had way too much fun writing this :D

 

Killua had been lying, back slumped against a collection of desks, and staring at the same stain on the ceiling for too long.

 

Far too long.

  
It was the only sign of imperfection in the otherwise immaculate room and it was just... _there_ , ruining the cleanliness in one measly, mustard-yellow splodge. Killua considered himself a messy person, and he was pretty sure that anyone who spared even a single glance at his hair or his handwriting could guess that, though for some reason he couldn't tear his eyes away from it. The more he looked at it, the more irritated he got, the bigger it looked - the worse it looked, which then lead to more annoyance and more negative emotions in general.

But as much as he insisted upon it, he knew that wasn't the reason behind the inexplicable relief that seeped through his body upon the sight of bright amber eyes and onyx spikes.

If there was one thing Killua did consider himself to be, it was a good predictor and if there was one thing he was predicting on happening, it was Gon not coming.  
It was all too good to be true - a person like Gon, kind, bright and bubbly, wanted to talk to, _never mind be friends with_ , a  person like himself, that wasn't any of those things. That wasn't anything worth wanting to become friends over.

But apparently he was.

To Gon, he was.

 

 

"Killua!"

 

 

Killua jumped at the shout of his name and sat up on the desk  in shock and another emotion he couldn't name. What he could name was how it wasn't necessarily a bad feeling - just something foreign. If anything, it was a welcome emotion, soothing and refreshing at the same time; an emotion he didn't want to feel foreign, an emotion he wanted to become accustomed to.

He didn't notice how close Gon was until he felt warm breaths fanning across his face, which soon seared into redness at the close proximity. The burning in his cheeks was another alien sensation, but something his pride hoped would remain that way.

 

 

"W-What are you doing idiot?!" Killua finally hissed out, after leaping away, off of the table probably further than necessary, white hair bristling like the hackles of an scittish cat. Gon giggled at the reaction, face flushed with happiness rather than embarrasement and wide eyes twinkling with overt amusement.

 

 

"You looked really out of it," The laughter trailed off into silence after noticing how Killua was still gripping the desk, shaking fingers and chewed nails leaving light dents into the surface. "How long have you been waiting for?"

 

 

"Not long." It was an understatement and Killua knew that Gon knew that. Killua considered himself a pretty unreadable person, but seeing Gon's slightly furrowing brows and lips turning ever so slightly downwards made him feel as if he were wearing his heart on a sleeve.

 

 

It should have made Killua feel exposed, fearful, vulnerable.

It should have.

But it didn't.

 

 

"Sorry I was so late, I got a bit held up..." The words were murmured thoughtfully, accompanied by dimmed bronze eyes that hinted at something more than a hold up. A full-blown grin slid back onto Gon's face before Killua could begin to dwell upon the thought. Or rather, seeing Gon's smile distracted him of all negative thoughts, making him think only positivite things, only _Gon_. "But now I'm here we can get started, right?"

 

 

"You can; I'll be moral support." Killua faked a yawn and began to stretch, smirk stretching as a pout crept across Gon's features. He pretended to be unknowing of Gon's irritation and instead started to exaggeratedly slump into a chair and slowly lower his head onto his crossed arms in a recreation of his sleeping pose from earlier. He felt his smirk press onto his skin as Gon huffed.

 

 

"Killua,"

 

 

"What is it, Gon?"

 

 

Killua's smirk broadened as he heard Gon tapping his feet in a frantic pattern.

 

 

"If you're trying to talk through mourse code with your feet it's not really working. I really don't understand what you're trying to sa-"

 

 

" _Killua_!"

 

 

The cool façade immediately dropped as Killua felt large hands settle on his shoulder, shaking him roughly. He couldn't help but notice how they well seemed to fit, slotting into place like missing jigsaw pieces.

Very warm jigsaw pieces.

Killua promptly walked over to the utility closet, letting the hands slide off of his shoulders, his head bowed to hide the conflicted expression at the first contact he'd had in... the first contact he'd had with _anyone_ since his sisters. A frown almost marred his face at the thought and he forced out a reply to distract him from all of that,  before he could think about any of _that_.

 

 

"Yes! I know! Jeez, you're so easy to annoy it's ridiculous."

 

 

Gon simply stared, fingers twitching at the loss of sensation. He let them rest next to his legs before curling them into a fist and loosened them again until they were still.

Wanting to feel useful, he bounded up to the closet to help Killua retrieve the cleaning utilities. He stifled a giggle when he saw the vivid red flourishing on the shells of Killua's ears, only illuminated and not hidden by snow white tuffs.

 

 

"Where's Bisky then?"

 

 

Killua didn't speak for a few moments, busying himself in searching for equipment whilst recovering his still lacking composure. Gon observed patiently, pointing in the direction of the bucket of items he typically used and grinning perhaps too enthusiastically for the quiet thanks murmured in reply.

Although it took minutes before everything was found, the lingering blush still hadn't died down off of Killua's face. and so he weightily exhaled before wandering over to the board, reaching for the chalk erasers and gaining enough distance away from Gon to respond.

 

 

"And I thought you were meant to be the model student... It's disrespectful to call teachers by their first names, y'know."

 

 

"I don't do it for all teachers, only the ones I'm close to," Gon didn't seem to understand the whole point of why Killua had moved as he trotted beside him to help wipe the board. He continued speaking, sensing how Killua had briefly halted but bearing it no mind. "She's my friend, so she let's me call her Bisky out of lesson!"

 

 

"You're... friends?"

 

 

"Mhm! She does a lot for me and she's really nice."

 

 

Killua hummed feigning disinterest as he tapped two erasors against each other, passively watching as residues of chalk disspersed around them. Blue eyes sparkled at a sudden idea and soon clashed with amber ones, that seemed to be glancing down at the rubbers with the same intent. Killua reacted first, smashing them together near to Gon's face, eyes glinting competitively as he saw his nose scrunch  up to avoid sneezing.

It was an unspoken contest that Killua won in the end, bursting into snickers as the other burst into full-blown coughs.

 

 

"She's marking stuff, gave us around half an hour to do all this," Killua laughed out, lightly poking Gon's forehead. "Trust you to be friends with a teacher."

 

 

Gon's coughing fit disipated quickly.

 

 

"What do you mean?"

 

 

Killua's laughter died out almost as fast as the coughing did, but the angular smirk remained jagged upon his face.

 

"I mean, you can be friends with anyone, you're just that kind of person," Mistaking Gon's contemplative expression for something else, Killua hastily ammended what he'd said. "I-It's not a bad thing! Everyone wants to be friends with you and-"

 

 

"What about you?"

 

 

The room was plummetted into silence, one only broken by Killua's wavering footsteps as he reached for a brush and began to sweep the chalk around on the floor.

 

 

"What about me?" He finally croaked out.

 

 

"I mean, you could be friends with people too but you choose not to, why?"

 

 

Killua stood still, oblivious to how Gon approached.

 

_Why did he choose to be alone?_

 

The simple answer was that that was how he was raised. To be selfish, self-orientated, self-preserving, key word being self; only needing himself, not needing anyone else, _not meant to want anyone else_. So, why was Gon so...

 

 

"People annoy me." Was what he'd settled on, an answer he'd randomly picked from the hat full to the brim of not wrong but not right possibilities. His eyes were glued to the dust collecting in a tall pile, too intent on it to notice how drastically Gon's face fell, but still not intent enough to not feel how Gon's eyes burned into his back.

 

 

"What about me?"

 

 

_Exactly_.

 

Killua forced the teasing smirk back onto his face as he turned, leaning his entire weight onto his broom.  Gon noticed, but just barely, the small crinkles under Killua's saphire eyes.

He hoped they were laugh lines. He hoped they were laugh lines because of him.

 

 

"Well you're not a person," Gon's face scrunched in confusion as if he were actually contemplating the answer Killua gave. Killua heaved an over-exaggurated sigh before elaborating. "You're different from... _them_." He flicked his wrist in a flimsy attempt to insinuate who he meant before tucking his hand back into his the pocket of his hoodie.  
The creases smoothed out and a smile graced on Gon's face as he took in the answer, the fire in his eyes still flickering, coiling, flaring but calmer, less fierce and warmer.

Softer.

 

 

"So does that mean you like me?"

 

 

Killua turned his gaze back down to the floor, scraping his brush so vigorously that he hoped it would, but just knew it didn't, cover up his sudden bout of choking that decidely wasn't due to the lingering particles of chalk in the air.

 

 

"Because I'm okay with not being a person if it means Killua likes me!"

 

 

As if it couldn't get any worse, the choking suddenly lead onto genuine sneezes, harshly unleashed after being repressed for the sake of conversation. Each sneeze got progressively stronger, and by his last sneeze, Killua nearly fell back onto the table with exhaustion. There was no way of hiding it now - even without Gon's contagious and impossibly loud laughter and blindingly bright grin to point it out, Killua knew this.

His face felt that alien sensation again. Hot, boiling, burning. Killua cussed between subtle sniffles at his bad luck and his nostril's sensitivity.

His face was still flushed, but he knew that it wasn't because of the lack of oxygen; he knew who the real culprit was, swinging their arms joyously, bouncing on the balls of their feet, true mischief hiding behind the mask with a softer... stranger smile etched upon it.  If Killua was looking slightly upwards, he would have seen how the softness was most abundant in Gon's wide eyes. Eyes that were entirely focused upon his own.

 

 

"Killua sneezes like a cat too," Gon said, lips curling upward to reveal a row of pearly white teeth. Killua was almost taken aback, almost mistook it for snarling, but realised that it was only his inexperience with different ways of showing happiness speaking. Everything Gon did was hyperbolised, not in the obnoxious way but in the bubbly way, smiles included. "And I won!"

 

 

"What d'ya mean you 'won'? You sneezed too - It's a draw!"

 

 

"But I didn't sneeze as much as you did," Gon was silent for a few moments before laughing again, reflecting upon what he had seen. "It was like you were firing bullets out of your nose!"

 

 

"Well you didn't hold it in as long as I did. It's a draw," Killua threw the broom into Gon's face before he could refute, startling him still. Of course, it was caught easily (Killua had heard stories of Gon's athleticisim after all) but Killua still clung to the mental image of a Gon getting whacked by it. "Now do your fill! I was meant to be the moral support, remember?"

 

 

To Killua's surprise, Gon nodded resolutely, but laid the broom against the desk. He shrugged his bag off onto the desktop and began to route through it instead. Noticing Killua's glare, Gon rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and provided a quick exclamation before rummaging again.

 

 

"I have to get my cleaning cloth!"

 

 

"Your... What-"

 

 

"Ah! Here it is!"

 

 

The item was self-exclamitory, but the broadening of Gon's grin and sudden surge of energy was anything but. It was a long piece of white fabric, mageled amongst scrumpled up assignments and used-up pens. Gon tugged it out, uncaring of the school work which tumbled out as a result, and briskly tied it around his forehead. He twirled around, doing a ridiculous 'ta-da' gesture with open arms and an open stance. Killua couldn't help but snort at the absurdity of it all.

 

 

"The fuck is that for?"

 

 

"It's to keep the sweat out of my eyes!" Killua just stared, eyebrows raised judgementally, both of appearance as well as function.

 

 

"How hard do you plan on working us here? It's a classroom, it's gonna get messy within hours of the next day anyway. And why would you use that material? It won't soak up the sweat as well as a sweat band, y'know, those items that are _basically designed for that very purpose!"_

 

 

"I thought it looked cool..." Was the mumbled response. The moue on Gon's face and slightly furrowed brows was almost enough to deter Killua from dealing the finishing blow, but after noticing how the fire in his eyes wasn't extinguished, he knew that Gon wasn't _that_ offended. Just like how Killua wasn't _that_ annoyed.

 

 

"It looks ridiculous."

 

 

"Well, I'm keeping it on anyway."

 

 

"I didn't say you should take it off. Are we getting started or what?" Gon visibly perked up at the words, averting his gaze from the broom back to Killua, then back to the broom again. He mumbled indistinguishable words (seemingly of encouragement, by the way his clutch tightened on the equipment) to himself and then nodded resolutely to Killua once.

 

 

"I will! You might want to check your phone though, it has been going off for a while. I was _going_ to say something but our conversation- I guess I got a bit distracted. They seem persistent, so sorry about that!"

 

 

Gon got to work instantaneously, to the extent that Killua didn't take in his words but rather just stood in awe, or perhaps disbelief, at the almost comical speed the dust was clearing. When the words were absorbed, the awe was popped and he elevated himself upon a desk to flick through his messages.

His phone hadn't buzzed, so everything was okay.  

He flicked past a few messages from his phone company, which he frowned at angrily and sent an angry reply despite the overly polite request of not doing so.

There was a message from Kalluto, a stiff message mentioning the family meeting and how he should really come this time. Although he cared for his sibling, it was clear that they were being manipulated by their mother, so Killua didn't reply to that one.

A bunch of missed phone calls.

A selection of voicemails, soon deleted.

Spam emails, left unopened.

His phone hadn't buzzed, so everything was-

 

"Oh shit."

 

And there, at the bottom of his inbox, was the message from Illumi.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put some sneaky GI style Gon in there... 'cos why the hell not B)   
> Constructive criticism is very welcome :)


	5. The gap in the window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bisky's and Gon's friendship is developed upon and Killua shows his feline tendencies again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this one isn't as good and it's posted a bit later than I would've hoped, but I've been a bit insecure with it, re-writing it and all that time-consuming shiz... But here it is! I hope you're happier with it than I am at least :) If not, constructive criticism is welcome!

"Oh."

 

 

Gon didn't understand.

Aunt Mito had always said he was a likeable person, as did his friends and even Killua had said so (even if he had stumbled over his words a bit) so why...

 

When Gon saw the emptiness of the classroom the first time he had felt many things:

Surprise.

Anger.

Sadness.

Betrayal, though there wasn't much to betray in the first place.

It was mostly the reason why he had felt so confused originally. His mind worked best tackling things one by one, and that applied to emotions too.

Judging by the fuzziness that smothered his brain like an overbearing fog, it _especially_ applied to emotions.

He didn't like negativity made him feel either. Or rather, he hated how the lack of positivity made him feel. Optimism was another way he operated, it went hand in hand with focusing on one thing at a time, so having an abundance of decidedly _not optimistic_ emotions at once was overwhelming to say the least. Disheartening was the most accurate way he could reflect upon it.

That was before the hoodie slid off of his tensed shoulders with a light yet resonating _thump_ , revealing a blue lump on the floor as if to remind Gon that he didn't know enough to form assumptions. That there might have been, _that there was_ , a reason behind it all.

Gon was a good person; he wouldn't leave without explanation if it wasn't urgent and Killua was a good person, something he had known for a while but an opinion their brief conversation had solidified into barely distinguishable fact; so Killua wouldn't leave either.

Killua wouldn't run away for no reason.

 

 

"Killua's a nice person," Gon murmured under his breath whilst bending to pick up the still warm jacket. He toyed with the baggy sleeves, remembering how they stretched across Killua's skeletal hands as if trying to hide their constant fidgeting. It was a mannerism Gon picked up on fairly quickly and something he considered to be fairly obvious if people were to pay as much attention to Killua as he did: Killua tended to hide, or at least try to hide, as much of himself as possible.

His posture was slumped, as if he were close to curling into a ball; his fringe was long and draped over his face like a pale veil and, from what he had heard, Killua asked to swap seats with students so he could be near the back of the room, something that class-acquaintances complained about regularly because apparently there was nothing more interesting to talk about than seating arrangements.

Gon empathized - Killua was someone he talked about regularly. Not because there weren't things more interesting to talk about, but rather that he was someone Gon always thought about. Everything he could think of always linked back to Killua in some way or another. At one point he remembered having a conversation with Mito-san about the weather, which somehow lead to Killua simply down to how the blue in Killua's eyes was similar to the colour of the sky. And the white of the clouds being similar to Killua's hair. And their fluffiness too.

Everything related back to Killua.

 

 

"Killua's a nice person." He repeated, louder this time. More resolute. The fabric between his fingers felt soft and a part of him was tempted to smell it, creepiness be damned, although he was interrupted by another voice before he could do so.

 

 

"Beneath all the insults, snobby exterior and rudeness in general, I could see where you're coming from."

 

 

A smile spilt across Gon's face at the familiar voice, all negativity finally gone. He had been too deep in thought to hear the figure entering the room, but the happiness outweighed the surprise.

 

 

"Bisky! We, well I guess it was more me but... we finished!" Gon near shouted, eyes nearly closing shut due to the sheer broadness of his grin. Ms Krueger chuckled.

 

 

"Good good," Bisky paused, taking in the comical cleanliness of the class, then taking in the lack of messiness. Or rather, the lack of a certain person. "Where's this so-called nice person got to then?"

 

 

"Oh, he left."

 

 

"What?" Ms Krueger's annoyance was more heard than seen, and that was saying something since her face was the very epitome of irritation.

 

 

"He had a phone call then left. I don't think he wanted to though. He only left after the phone call, it looked like he didn't even want to take it," Gon inhaled deeply, only to have the breath to continue the long-winded explanation rather than order his thoughts. It worked better this way, anyway. Maybe it could help him understand how he felt too. "But the first time they called he hung up and, and I mean, he looked just so happy about it," He paused again, thoughts slotting into place to form a realisation that hit him like a slap to the face. "No, happy's not the right word, I think... accomplished over it? And I guess something just... clicked and he went to take it. He looked nervous. I just- He looked so sad Miss." Gon finished quietly.

 

 

The only sound left in the room was the clicking of Miss Krueger's heels against sparkling wood. Gon looked up from the hoodie, only just realising that he hadn't stopped looking at it the entire time, to see her face contorted in concern, smile twisted into a grimace and eyesbrows furrowed. She leant against the desk next to Gon, head turned to maintain eye contact as she spoke.

 

 

"Do you know how long I've been working at this school for Gon?"

 

 

Gon's face scrunched up in thought as he tried to recall what other teachers talked about constantly. Ms Krueger was a figure of respect, everyone knew of her.

 

 

"Mr Wing said you taught him, so-"

 

 

"30 years," Gon's eyes widened in admiration, mouth curling slightly upward again. But noticing the seriousness in the teacher's demeanour, he remained quiet and waited for her to speak. It didn't take too long. "Since I was 22."

 

 

Gon waited again when silence returned.

 

 

"You, Killua and everyone I teach, I see as my children. It's been that way for 30 years. I get to see you grow up, make new friendships, develop bonds... I don't- I've never been able to have children of my own," Ms Krueger's hands fell to splay across her stomach subconsciously. "but this job makes me feel a part of that growth. Does that make sense?"

 

 

Gon nodded vigorously.

 

 

"Yes! Mito-san can't have children either, but she says she has me and I see her as my mother anyway. So you see the school how Mito-san sees me?"

 

 

"Exactly," Bisky paused again, structuring her point in a way that would be easiest to understand before speaking once more. "And do you know how your mother feels when you're upset?"

 

 

Gon turned his gaze away from his teacher's eyes and back to the hoodie, wrapping the loose threads tightly around his pinkie as he frowned.

 

 

"Yeah. She gets worried and upset too," He tugged the thread so hard that he could see his finger turning purple from the lack of circulation. "But if I don't say what's wrong she gets more worried and angry. She locked me out of the house once because I didn't tell her everything."

 

 

"Exactly." Gon looked up, letting the thread go lax as she saw Bisky's warm eyes. "That's how I feel towards Killua right now."

 

 

"He obviously has a lot going on," She continued, "He doesn't want to sit with the others, hates group work and might have social anxiety. You know your friend, Doctor Paladiknight? He tells me a lot about health issues Killua might have. He worries a lot for him too." Bisky sighed heavily, looking over to the list of pupils next to the door, her eyes hardening at Killua's scruffily written name. "But Killua pushes us away and insists on being perfectly fine when he's-"

 

 

"Not." Gon finished, voice dropping an octave as the words sunk in.

 

 

_How could he have been so stupid?_

Gon had thought he had genuinely made a difference, or that Killua had at least allowed him to make a difference. He didn't miss how Killua had smiled - really smiled - behind his hand and when he had thought Gon wasn't looking. And Gon wasn't entirely oblivious; he knew the difference between a fever and a harsh blush, so he knew that Killua had definitely been blushing at some, most, points in their brief meeting but...

But maybe he had misidentified the cause of it?

Maybe Killua was uncomfortable the entire time?

Was Gon was too blinded by his own happiness to not see Killua's unhappiness?

Maybe... Maybe Killua had left because of _him_?

 

 

"But it could be different with you."

 

 

The words were fuzzy, almost drowned out by the descending haze of guilt, but luckily they were noticed in time. Gon blinked, his eyes reforming from muddy brown to bright amber in a matter of seconds.

 

  

"Really?"

 

 

"Really." Ms Krueger nodded towards the hoodie to further back up of her point. She chuckled at the disbelief in Gon's face that quickly transitioned into determination. She felt motivated by it too; things were beginning to look up. "Believe it or not, he comes to school early in the morning so if I force him inside then maybe you could talk with him then. If he's not asleep that is."

 

Gon clutched the hoodie closer to his chest, smelling the wafts of the scent that was distinctly Killua, a scent that smelled like smoke and refreshing, a smell that perked him up and served as a reminder of a reason to be excited for the following day. The hoodie was still warm, whether it was Gon's warmth or Killua's didn't really matter. Gon was happy either way. 

 

 

"Yes Miss!"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Oh."

 

The second time wasn't as confusing as the first, but it was still disorientating. Despite this, Gon recovered quickly; praying, _hoping_ , that Killua hadn't fully left yet. He had only been gone for a few minutes after all, Killua's disappearance happening whilst his back had been turned putting the broom back in the cupboard. There was a reason Gon had kept close to Killua, though he probably would've done it anyway without the whole chance of escape being there, and he wasn't losing now.

Wasn't losing because of a few measly seconds.

Luckily, a light chilling breeze drew Gon's attention towards the open window, the space being small, but wide enough for Killua to slip through. The curtain was fluttering slightly away from the window, lulling Gon in and giving him a full image of Killua treading lightly upon the tree's branches.

 

Gon knew that he probably should have been concerned for Killua's safety but he wasn't, despite the tree being two stories in height. He was in the same gym glass as Killua and had seen how agile he could be if he actually put the effort into the lesson, Gon had often wondered whether Killua was as agile as himself, and seeing the cat-like way in which he strode along the branch made the answer loud and clear.

 

The tranquillity of the scene distracted Gon briefly. Killua almost looked at peace, his face was free of creases and his hair was wafting out of his eyes because of the cold breeze. His eyes almost seemed brighter, a blue matching that of the mouthwash sky.

 

Gon was so distracted by it that he near missed Killua's trembling fingers beneath the long sleeves of his jacket. Though Gon knew it wasn't out of fear. It seemed almost natural to Killua to be casually climbing down a tree, so Gon knew that to be so shaken must have meant something had happened when his back was turned.

Something serious to Killua must have happened.

 

So Gon wasn't concerned that he would fall, but was instead concerned about why.

 

Why he had left again.

 

Killua froze in place, head turning slowly back to the window where he could see Gon watching, eyes wide with concern. He twitched as he saw Gon scrape a desk up the window, preparing to join him.Killua aptly raised a hand in a plea to stop.

 

_Don't follow me, don't ask._

 

His other hand was gripped tightly around the branch, not out of fear of where he was, but out of fear of where he would be. Noticing that Gon had finally stopped, confusion etched across his features, he lowered his hand back to the tree, glancing down to the ground before his eyes bounced back to the window.

 

His whole boy tensed again as he saw that Gon had neared closer and climbed onto a desk, but his posture relaxed again as he saw that Gon had only poked his head and hand out of the open window, despite there being enough space to get through entirely.

 

 

"See ya tomorrow Killua!" Gon waved energetically, voice louder than necessary, so loud that Killua almost worried that his brother might hear.

Almost.

He was too wrapped up in Gon's words to care.

 

_See you tomorrow, Killua._

 

Killua waved back with both hands, leaping off of the final branch and landing gracefully on his unbroken bones. He didn't hesitate; once he felt the frozen grass beneath him, he ran and didn't look back.

 

But he still waved.

 

_See you tomorrow, Killua._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Killua climbing on a tree like a cat is basically how the whole idea for all of this started, a bit of a pathetic starting point for a fan fic but hey! Look how this mess turned out! ;)


	6. Lost and found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dollop of angst with some fluff sprinkled on top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep I know I'm bad at updating, sorry :S I literally rewrote all of this chapter (I'm so bad at writing Phantom Troupe members gah) and I would still be rewriting it now, but even I know that's a tad excessive oops...  
> Also, I forgot to mention this sooner, but Killua and Gon are in their first year of high school in this, so they're around 15/16 years old! ;D   
> As always, constructive criticism is very welcome! They're super helpful, so don't be afraid to leave a few comments about grammatical errors or any errors in general :)

Mike was more of a bribery than anything - not a pet bought out of care, gratitude, or any form of love; not bought for the same reasons a normal family would have. Yet again, it could be said that the Zoldycks weren't a normal family.

No, it _would_ be said that they weren't normal. The Zoldycks were a business first, a family second. Everyone knew this, whether they were actually a part of the family, or the company, or neither.

Despite being at a young age, Killua knew this first-hand.

He knew the true reason of why there was an Irish Wolfhound in his room; an Irish Wolfhound, for _him,_ in his room. It was the immediate thing he knew after getting over the incredulousness of its size, which surprisingly didn't take too long, and its docile attitude, another thing surprising considering how it should have been as a puppy. Instead of bounding over to the young boy, it stayed still and simply... stared, occasionally tilting its colossal skull to the left ever so slightly, as if trying to understand the emotion that oozed from the other's face. Its tail thumped steadily against the wooden floor, seemingly waiting for something or other, while its floppy ears perked up almost indistinguishably.

Maybe it knew its purpose too.

Killua tried to ignore it at first, stubborn to show any acknowledgement of his parent's endeavours. He didn't want a pet. Not a dog, nor a cat, nor anything that wasn't freedom from what was caging him in the stifling house-hold.

 

The dog remained nameless for months until he gave in but succumbing to the comforts of a friend, human or not, was worth the blow to his pride. As much as he loved Alluka, she was a sister before a friend, and he was her strong brother. _Strong_. Someone to look up to. Someone to feel comforted by.

And he doubted that crying or complaining would have helped that image.

Needless to say, It felt good - great even - to talk to someone about everything, without having to worry about how to appear or the mask to wear.

But most importantly, it was nice to not be alone on the night-time walks.

After Alluka was forcibly given her own bedroom, sleep was hard to come by. Even Mike wasn't a good enough replacement despite being cuddlier than the average sized person - the bed was warmer and cosier than it would've been to sleep alone, but it didn't block out the almost toppling stack of law books on his desk or the certificates, his family had forced him to put up, that caked his walls. The room was still a constant reminder of what Killua had to do.

What he had to become.

Killua didn't know whether his parents knew of his nocturnal escapes or whether they were just ignored; what he did know was that he was thankful for it. It was difficult to be at the building during the morning, never mind at night when everything was still and lifeless. So walking the streets, away from the house he lived in, was a thing he did more often than he knew he should.

 

 

"Mike," Killua called gently, voice hushed to just the right sound level that he knew the hound would respond to. Sure enough, seconds after, he heard the soft pattering of paws against wood and felt the sensation of wiry hair against skin as Mike nuzzled against his arm. The leather collar buckled around the impossibly large neck with a quiet, yet resonating, _click_. "You ready for a nice long one today, pal?"

 

 

Mike's ears perked up in recognition of the code laced within softly spoken words. His tail began to thump against Killua's legs, practically screaming the answer. Killua exhaled a hearty chuckle at the overt display of enthusiasm before clicking the leash onto the collar and giving one harsh tug towards the door.

As soon as the door creaked open, a shudder racked through Killua's body at the sudden exposure to the cold. He cussed once after remembering how he'd forgotten to take his coat with him and left it with Gon _again_. Noticing this, Mike edged closer to him, offering some of his warmth whilst looking up at Killua, tongue lolled out and ears twitching expectantly. His tail waved faster after receiving a satisfying scratch under his jaw.

 

It was only until they were out of the front gate, into the streets, away from the house, that they relaxed.

 

 

"Had a good day today, bud?" Killua finally murmured out, words muffled behind a tightly wrapped scarf. Mike panted heavily in response, tail now swooping around Killua's legs. Wisps of breath curled around them as they walked, steps synchronised and resolute despite the occasional lingering stares from shifty onlookers that should have made them feel otherwise. Killua noticed that there was more of them than usual, but remained nonchalant and paid it no mind.

 

Until Mike suddenly stopped, mouth shutting instantaneously and nose scrunching as if latching to a certain scent.

Killua pulled once, trying to budge the massive beast. He raised his hand again, but froze after noticing the fangs poking out of the dog's mouth.

 

 

"C'mon boy, you literally _just_ had a piss." Killua joked, crouching down to Mike's height. It was then that Mike finally decided to move, tugging Killua abruptly and almost toppling him over. Killua cursed loudly in shock, before scrambling back to his feet, but he didn't even get the opportunity to dust himself down before getting pulled again. "Alright, alright! I get the point!"

 

 

The street was silent for the exception of the rapid stamping of steps and the predatorily harsh sniffs from the hound, intent upon locating its prey from scent alone. It made Killua realise the true nature of the breed and he couldn't help, although there should've been other things on his mind like somehow re-establishing order over his dog, but inwardly question his parent's choice of buying a dog bred to hunt. A _fucking massive_ and _ridiculously strong_ dog bred to hunt.

 

They both stopped when hit with the heavy stench of cigarettes and the just as prevalent loud voices.

Killua almost swore and immediately stuck himself against the wall, trying to become as small as possible. After noticing that the voices were permeating from the end of the alley, in the darkest and most secluded section of the path, Killua poked his head around the corner and strained his eyes to make out three figures, two of the figures backs facing towards Killua, appearing to be caging in the third figure. Because of this, all Killua could pick up on was how worryingly small the figure was and how the two towered over them with their height.

The other thing he noticed made him freeze in his tracks and immediately glue himself back against the wall.

 

 

"What the fuck Mike?" He hissed, eyes still wide from what he had seen and almost walked into. His hold of the leash loosened after his hand began to tingle from the lack of circulation, but his grip tightened quickly as the image played out again in his head.

The image of something his father had told him time and time and time again to steer clear from; to _not_ run into.

A gang symbol - a notorious gang symbol.

The image of a spider sewn onto the back of their jackets.

Mike sniffed once more, looked up to Killua then turned his attention back to the entrance of the alley; a silent plea to pay attention.

 

For once, Killua abided.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"You did well today, kid." A gruff voice grunted from the end of the alley.

 

 

"Thanks, sir." A quiet voice responds. It sounded... familiar, but Killua's heart was thumping too loud to think much of it. It was the same nervousness he had experienced when seeing the small stature of the shadowed third person. He began to hug Mike's neck loosely against his chest, grasping for comfort and feeling relieved by the therapeutic thumping of the dog's heart beat, a soothing rhythm that lulled his own pulse to a similar, calmer, speed. Killua breathed out quietly, watching intently as the other figure breathed in a long drag of their cigarette.

 

 

"You really don't act your age, do you?" The figure finally spoke, their voice deep and strong, but laced with genuine interest and what may have been respect. Realising that the young person wasn't in danger, Killua began to relax against the concrete wall, but his grip on Mike's collar remained tight. The alley was plummeted into silence as they waited for a reply; it was too dark to see any signs of movement from anyone, but judging from the quiet 'tsk' from the smoker and the grunt from the other, the third figure hadn't responded - verbally or visually. Neither men seemed to give it much mind, instead leaning back to relax against the wall, giving Killua more to see.

Killua almost forgot to breathe.

The men weren't all too intimidating - if anything it was ridiculous how stereotypical they looked, the smoker immensely more so than the other. But despite this, the only similarity that they appeared to share was the crest of a spider they donned upon the back of their jackets.

The smoker was the epitome of a gang member; blonde hair slicked back, a distinctive lack of eyebrows, all finalised by a track suit and a furrowed brow, only smoothed out by each deep inhale and exhale of smoke.

 

Frankenstein's incarnate was the best way to describe the other. Their skin was riddled with scars and stitches and their earlobes were stretched, but similarly to the smoker, it didn't shock Killua.

 

The shock was the person who was in centre of it all.

No, the real shock was that that person was there in the first place. The last place that they should've been.

 

Killua could feel himself taking a step back without realising it, and then another, then another until he was running away, anywhere that wasn't there, anywhere to just _think_. And he didn't stop, only until his legs began to ache and until each step coursed a spike of pain through his body. At the sight of a bench, he slumped down upon it without a second thought, the aim to rest stifling all common sense and observation.

He didn't cry.

Only heaved and coughed into his open palms that were splayed across his face in an attempt to block out where he was, what he saw, _who_ he saw. His hands twitched, hinting at something important, or the loss of something important.

He lowered the limbs from his face and felt them fall onto the cold metal of the seat. They felt empty. They _were_ empty.

 

 

"Mike?"

 

 

There wasn't a response - not the pattering of paws, not the twinkling of a collar, not anything.

Nothing.

Killua called again and again, voice growing louder and more desperate by the second until he was shouting and pacing around the area, his hands tremoring like an itch he couldn't scratch.

 

 

"Mike? C'mon pal! **Mike**!"

 

 

It felt like hours passed, but there was still no reply. Killua slumped onto the path, uncaring of any looks that might have been sent his way, uncaring of _anything_. He could feel his body convulsing as he hiccupped and he hated it.

He hated how he had ran away from the situation.

He hated how he had ran away instead of asking a simple, one syllable, question: _why_?

 

 

"Killua,"

 

 

He hated how he could have done something to help, but didn't.

 

 

"Killua?"

 

 

He hated that he knew he was deserving of losing Mike.

 

 

"Killua! It's okay!" Killua startled at the sudden tap to his shoulder, only just noticing the liquid salt cascading down his face, only just noticing the familiar presence behind him, only just noticing how he must've appeared to that presence. He stilled, the only reaction to the fur bristling against his face or the rough tongue lapping the tears off of his cheeks. "It's alright Killua, I found him."

 

 

Killua's throat felt too horse to reply, so he simply reached out to take the leash from the outstretched hand and rubbed the leather between his fingers until they began to sting. The hand remained splayed open, there for Killua to take, even after endless minutes of the white-haired teen staying curled against the hound in a near foetal position. When Killua eventually reached to accept it, the comforting grip all but encased his hand. A callused thumb rubbed soothing circles against it and tamed the trembling.

 

 

"Better now?"

 

 

One nod.

 

 

"Do you want me to keep doing this?"

 

 

Killua wanted so desperately to nod, but the haze that had stifled all common sense had at last dissipated, leaving him to reluctantly shake his head. They must've noticed the reluctance, so the hand only let go after carefully leading Killua back to the bench, its soothing ministrations never once faltering even as they sat down onto the freezing metal.

They sat close, but not too close, together so that the warmth was shared between them.

Killua recognised that warmth.

 

 

"Where was he?" Killua whispered under his breath, voice too cracked and utterly wrecked to speak any louder. But apparently it was loud enough to be heard.

 

 

"Only a little bit away. I think he was looking for you too." The voice was gentle and soothing, not pressuring and not expectant. They sounded relieved more than anything.

Killua recognised that voice.

 

 

"What are you doing out so late Gon?" Even after clearing his throat several times, it still sounded too croaky, too exposed, too _weak_. His cheeks felt cold where the tears had trailed down and he rubbed them with the back of his hand to no avail. But he didn't have enough energy in him to care, and instead shifted a little bit, only a tiny bit, closer to the amber-eyed teen, his hands now resting between Mike's ears and wrapped around his collar loosely. Gon's response was as cheery as always, as if he hadn't seen Killua have a breakdown on the street at midnight; it was as if nothing had happened, and for that, Killua was grateful.

 

 

"I work at a shop around the corner from here," Gon chuckled shakily at the baffled expression on Killua's flushed face. His smile dimmed slightly when noticing the puffiness of the usual bright blue eyes, now turned slightly bloodshot, though it soon brightened again at the thought that: _puffiness is an after effect_ and that _it was over now_. That he had actually helped Killua feel better. "Why are you so surprised?"

 

 

"I guess that I thought maybe you would've been doing something normal. Like _sleeping_ maybe?"

 

 

"Oh yeah? So why aren't you being 'normal'?" Gon teased back, voice light but with a serious undertone. His eyes were flickering like soothing flames, shimmering in the artificial light of the lamp-post above the bench. Killua inwardly sighed, realising that maybe the person that did return someone important to him, whilst calming him down and being unbelievably kind all at the same time, did perhaps deserve some form of explanation.

 

 

"I guess that - I mean, I suppose it's just... nicer at night. There's less people and, I don't know, I guess it's just more calm out here than _there_. At my house." Killua let his jaw go lax, only just noticing that he was gritting his teeth out of difficulty to speak. To speak about what he genuinely wanted to speak about. Gon nodded in understanding, averting his gaze from Killua's greyed eyes to instead stare at the clock next to the school building. He toyed the fat of his lip between his teeth in concern and self-restraint; wanting to know more, wanting to help, but not wanting to scare Killua away. It only took a few minutes until the words spewed out.

 

 

"Why weren't you so calm then? Mike doesn't seem like the type of dog to run away and-"

 

 

"I lost him." Gon looked back to Killua, noticing the way the pale boy tugged his dog slightly closer to his chest. That, and Killua's more subdued tone, made him realise that it wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the whole truth either. 

 

 

"But how?"

 

 

The only answer was a deafening silence. Gon felt a slight draft before noticing that Killua shuffled further away from him to the comforts of his dog, nestling his face within a mess of wiry fur. All Gon could see was the beginnings of a frown marring the other's face, as if deliberating an answer to give - or, more likely, whether to actually give an answer - and it made his stomach churn.

He wanted Killua to be open.

Why wasn't Killua being open?

 

 

"Gon, it's too lat- too  _early_ for this."

 

 

Gon's face fell, immediately realising what Killua was insinuating.

A part of him was thankful that Killua was avoiding looking at him.

Forced happiness in his voice, he could do, but forced smiles hurt. Even after a lot of practice.

 

 

"Alright. I could walk back with you if you wan-"

 

 

"I'm okay, don't worry about it."

 

 

Gon's throat began to clog as he became increasingly unsure of how to do something he thought he was adept at doing. He watched Killua's back grow steadily smaller as he walked away, his fingers beginning to curl into taut fists. Reluctant to just leave it at that, he cleared his throat desperately, two times, then twice more, before shouting at the top of his voice.

 

 

"See you tomorrow Killua!" The only sign that it was loud enough was Mike peeking over his shoulder, ears perked up as if waiting for Gon to say something more.

And he did, though it was quieter and riddled with concern. Not forced in the slightest. Unheard but genuine.

 

 

"Keep safe."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to write Mike as a domestic dog and it was so fun omg ^,^ I may or may not have wasted a lot of time doing research, aka, looking at [Irish](http://caesefilhotes.com.br/images/racas/4108irishwolfhound-2.jpg) [Wolfhound](http://www.irishwolfhoundpups.com/wp-content/gallery/irish-wolfhound-puppies/skmm-2012-misc-615-2.jpg) pictures... (it was worth it)  
> But more importantly...  
> 700 VIEWS?!?! 60 KUDOS?!? HOW?!?! When I started this, I genuinely thought no one would care about it, never mind actually like it, so thank you so much! It really brightens up my day :)


	7. Cat and dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Animal analogies and Japanese High School clichés.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this could be counted as filler? Sure didn't feel like it... (I'm sorry I get so carried away sometimes oops) 
> 
> And this chapter is a lil' shorter than what I'd intended; it just felt a tad clunky to write, so I focused more on the quality over the quantity this time! :) Even when checking over it, it still felt a bit awkward to read, though that might just be me, but if there are parts like that, then lemme know and I'll work on that for next time! ^u^

If there was one thing Gon was renowned for, aside from being the kindest, best-looking and generally most perfect boy in the entire school (or the entire _history_ of the school) it was his curiosity.

He was a model student, _the_ model student, who always asked questions in class; the citizen who was always the first to ask a crying civilian whether they were alright or needed help; a caring person who operated upon a yearning for knowledge, fuelled by a desire to learn and understand.

Curiosity and concern: a combination that Killua was losing sleep, even more so than usual, over.

The mingling of the two was scarier than he liked to admit.

 

Hence why he was so surprised to experience the next school day without any mention, none whatsoever, none _at all_ , of the incident.

 

Then the day after that.

Then the next.

Then the next. 

Until a whole two weeks had breezed by as if Gon hadn't witnessed Killua have a breakdown in front of the school with, more than question-worthy, incredulous circumstances.

 

Things had finally shifted ever so slightly back to normality. It was as if nothing had happened...

 

Was what Killua wanted to believe.

 

But there was another thing Gon was iconic for: stubbornness. And that was decidedly _not_ a conjecture, as Killua was witnessing first-hand; not to say that he wasn't bull-headed himself, it would make him a pathetic prodigy of a lawyer to not be.

 

And so, he feigned ignorance of the worried glances Gon spared his way when they walked past each other on the way to and from classes. He acted unknowing of the way Gon's mouth wavered between open and closed, torn between saying and not saying, as he watched Killua from afar. He faked ignorance of the fact that Gon was even there, feet shuffling back and forth, to and fro, towards and away from Killua, in the first place.

It wasn't that Gon was ignoring him per se, if anything it was the other way around - they were steps of hesitance rather than avoidance. Consideration of how to approach Killua without scaring him away, without him escaping from the conversation, as he was _trying_ to do consistently throughout the entire half a month.

 

Emphasis on the word _'trying'_.

 

 

**"Killua!"**

 

 

A lot of emthasis on _'trying'_.

 

Killua exhaled heavily before dragging his eyes from the limited scenery of the city, an aggregation of buildings and trees, and towards the overly energetic teen who was bounding closer and closer at an alarming speed Killua that he would have found astonishing, if not, ridiculous, if it weren't for his equally ridiculous bout of nervousness.

Apparently the roof wasn't good enough of a hiding spot; Killua made note of that and began to direct his attention towards assembling another - admittedly far-fetched - list of places where Gon couldn't find him, instead of facing the fact that he was already found.

_That he had been found a while back._

Hoping that maybe, possibly, somehow, he could shrink away, Killua pulled his hoodie (which had lost its earthy aroma, rendering it smelling of the putrid, artificial stench of washing powder and soap) tighter around himself, body folding inwards as he curled his knees in front of his face.

By the time Gon had slumped against the concrete wall next to him, Killua had conjured next to none possibilities of where to go - not that there weren't options, but just because there were options didn't mean they were possible...

If it were that easy, he would've done a while back after all.

 

 

"Can you track by your sense of smell or something?" Killua lips soon clamped shut, not even recognising that the words were his until Gon tilted his head in disconcertment. He hadn't even recognised they were his own _thoughts_ ; how the hell did 'how did you find me' translate into that... into _that_ anyway?

 

_What the fuck are you saying mouth?_

 

Gon remained stilled in place for what felt like hours, clearly confused by the question (which Killua could understand, even he was confused), before exploding into a fit of giggles. The roles reversed almost comically fast; Killua being the one to freeze in bewilderment, that he'd somehow started to make a conversation out of the utter garbage his brain spewed out, and Gon being too blinded by the tears of laughter to notice.

 

 

"Well, it depends on how far away we're talking." The adolescent with rounded eyes finally coughed out between heaving breaths, orange hues glistening like pools of liquid gold. His tanned skin was glowing an ethereal shade of bronze and the onyx spikes of hair were being slightly ruffled by the soft Spring breeze.

It made Killua appreciate the end of Winter just a little bit more.

 

 

"How about America? Far away enough for ya?" Killua side-glanced through feathered lashes and from under a curtain of white, a teasing smirk upon his face. For some reason, Gon faltered as their eyes met, amber softening at the sight of saphire, though the recovery was so quick that it was soon forgotten.

 

 

"Mike couldn't do that," The tanned teen chuckled, shuffling slightly closer to the other. "Nevermind _me_."

 

 

Killua's heart fluttered; he didn't know whether to be worried or flattered that Gon had remembered something as insignificant as his dog's name. His muscles tensed as a precaution in case something... _more_ was mentioned alongside the memory of Mike - how he knew Mike's name in the first place.

A precaution to leave, escape, if necessary.

Gon's eyes were too intent on Killua's to notice the change in body language.

 

 

"How did you find me then?" Killua asked shakily, his hands twitching on the inside of his pockets. He could feel the faint sensation of his fingers cricking, as they often did when they were shaking and shifting strenuously; when he was anxious. Greyed orbs averted from Gon's own, too soon to notice the almost indistinguishable downard turn of Gon's smile, as he turned his head upwards to look at the sky instead.

It was getting cloudy.

 

 

"Something called 'communication', though I doubt you've-" Gon paused, teeth biting into his bottom lip, to the point of drawing blood as he held back the spiteful words, but only after, just about, noticing Killua's gaze darting warily around his face.

As much as it hurt to be avoided, treated like a tormentor, like someone to be nervous around - the opposite of what Gon wanted to be seen as by Killua - Gon knew that it wasn't Killua's fault.

Distrust and defensiveness were things embedded into him, therefore it would take time and care to remove them...

Was what Bisky said anyway.

Two weeks had seemed to long to Gon, an agonisingly long amount of time, but apparently the painful wait had been worth every second; Killua wasn't running away.

_Killua wasn't scared._

A genuine smile soon stretched across his cheeks at the thought, spreading even more so as he heard the slight sigh of relief that Killua exhaled, and laughter bubbled out of his mouth.

 

 

"Why is the first thing you assume is that I _sniffed_ you out anyway? Couldn't you have given me something cooler... like X-Ray vision?"

 

 

"Dogs don't have X-Ray vision, doofus." Killua bowed his head in a vain attempt to cover the heat searing across his skin, a natural reaction to the other's evident display of happiness, but if anything, the wisps of white illuminated it more. Luckily, or unluckily in terms of the blushing predicament, for him, his hair didn't hide him from the endearing moue that tugged at Gon's lips.

 

 

"Why am I a dog?" Gon whined, the pout was still visible, even just through the tone of voice.

 

 

"Seriously? C'mon, you're more of a dog than _Mike_ is!" The younger teen scoffed at the baffled expression on the other's face. "What? It's true! I bet you have a tail hidden somewhere in your clothes, you just haven't found it yet... And your hair is so thick that it could _easily_ hide ears and-" His theories halted aptly as Gon's emotion visibly shifted from confused to excitement instantaneously. Dread flooded Killua's stomach as he witnessed this, and he flatly asked: "What."

His voice rose to a near-embarassing squeak as Gon shifted unbelievably close to grip his shoulders at a sudden epiphany.

 

 

"If that's true, then that makes you a cat, right?" Gon all but shouted next to Killua's ears as he began to shake the other, with a vigor blinded by excitment, at each analogy. "You sleep everywhere! And you landed on your feet when jumping out of that tree!" Quickly realising the futility of resistance, Killua grew lax in Gon's hold and instead cocked a thin eyebrow in amusement. "And your hair looks really fluffy,"

 

 

Gon finally paused to card a hand through the tuff of white but left it there, as if astonished by it. Killua was too occupied reeling from vertigo to mind the delicacy of which Gon wrapped a lock around his finger and too busy recovering from dizziness to (negatively) care about the way the hand slowly trailed downward to cup Killua's cheek with a callused, yet soft, palm. But as soon as it was there, it was gone again; leaving Killua to merely blink in shock and to feel the sudden flare of goose-bumps and coldness prickling across his face, where that warmth had once been, like needles poking into his pale skin.

 

 

"I-It _is_ fluffy!" As Killua tilted his head towards the vague direction of where the cracked voice was being projected from, he was surprised to see Gon rummaging through his school bag, a good metre or so away from where he had been not even (what had felt like) seconds prior. The astonished teen simply stared, watching as their black-haired acquaintance halted in place, dragged their fingers over the lower half of their face, before returning seconds later, with a revitalized energy and a bento box in hand.

Killua took notice of, but chose not to ask about, the red tinting the other's cheeks. He guessed that it would have been unfair to anyway, considering how many questions Killua left unanswered. 

 

 

"It's leftovers," Gon supplied, noticing Killua's inquisitive look, but mistaking its origin for something else entirely. "I... made too much last night, and I thought it would've been a waste, so ta~da!"

He avoided mentioning that the over-estimation wasn't exactly unintentional.

 

 

Even after Gon had laid out the lunch, gotten _two_ bowls out and halved the meal, and even placed  _two_ pairs of chopsticks invitingly in front of it all, Killua still hadn't moved, eyes glued to the ground and pointedly breathing through his mouth so that the rumblings of his stomach wouldn't deceive him.

Eventually, he tore them away to look at the box of chocorobos poking out of his own bag; it was empty, but Gon didn't have to know that.

 

 

"I've got my own lunch."

 

 

"You sure?" Gon drawled teasingly, hands poised in a preparation to pay gratitude, as his eyes flittered from the tempura, to the empty (he had seen Killua eat the whole packet, after all) box of chocorobos, to the prevalent boniness of Killua's wrist, to the aforementioned boy's flushed face. "It doesn't look like... _much_."

 

 

"W-Whatever!" Killua spluttered, avoiding looking at the knowing expression on the other's face, arms crossed defensively. He glared at the chopsticks that were in front of him, mockingly, and nudged them away with his foot, with faux (what he'd hoped to appear as) offence. "I'm not hungr-"

 

 

Of course, it was then that his stomach decided to growl for attention.

 

Gon exploded into laughter, collapsing against the wall and letting his hands drop to clutch his belly, all the while, looking at Killua with a stupid(ly adorable) grin across his face. Realising that there wasn't any point in rejecting it anymore, Killua fidgeted impatiently, until Gon had to wipe his eyes, before stumbling forward to reach for his bowl and chopsticks.

 

 

"S-Shut up!"  Killua hissed after Gon had recovered.

 

 

"I'm not saying anything!" Gon chirped, clapping his palms together and bowing his head in respect. He side-glanced at Killua to see him do an awkward imitation, with his back turned to Gon, crouched over a bowl, with only the red shells of his ears showing.

 

 

"I humbly receive!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Itadakimasu literally translates into "I humbly receive", so that's why I said that at the end... I just find it a bit awkward to write Japanese words into English when it's not honorifics, so that's why I did that! :) (and yeah I know the ending is a bit sudden, but I DID have a little bit lined up after it that was too bad so it all got cut out so... yeah. whoops!)
> 
> And, sorry that I'm repeating myself here, but thank you everyone so so so so much for all the lovely feedback this has gotten so far!!! It's really super duper amazing that people may somehow be actually enjoying this ff haha ^o^ this fandom is continuing to amaze me with it's kindness omg :")


	8. House and home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon's boot hovered over the entrance into the house, where the bustling, lively outside ended and the... _not bustling_ , _not lively_ inside began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken longer than usual, blame the education system and their need to stress everyone the fuck out ARGH!(it's over now. ish. thank god.) Don't worry, I still know what a plot is and what this one is ;) though, I'm sorry if there's the occasional filler (?) chapter, cos the end of hiatus (ARGRGRGRG!!) has left me with so many ideas and I'll feel guilty if they just stay on my notes unused so YEAH! :)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has supported this so far, whether it be kudos, feedback or keeping up to date with the chapters!! It not only supports me with writing this, but it's also a massive boost to my confidence, and I can't express in words how thankful I am for that ( **very** ) but thank you so much!! :))

 "I'm home!"

 

 

The blacked-out windows and lifeless dormancy of the apartment had made the response, or rather lack of response, loud and clear, even before Gon had chanted the hopeful custom, yet he stood still; lips fixed into a small smile, curling tentatively upwards, and eyes glimmering with wasted hope. He was motionless, boot hovering over the entrance into the house, where the bustling outside ended and the... decidedly _not bustling_ inside began. His grip grew gradually taut around the key in the palm of his hand, until the rusted metal was puncturing skin, to the point of nearly drawing blood.

 

Well, maybe it had.

 

Gon had assumed that the stickiness manifesting across his hand was sweat and hadn't given it another thought - never mind a _glance_. His eyes were too intent on staring at the austere door and his mind too busy buzzing with the urge to slam it shut.

Though, somehow, composure won out in the end, and so the door was instead slotted into place almost silently; almost as if it hadn't been opened in the first place. The house was plummeted into darkness instantly, leaving Gon to yelp in surprise and fumble around the flimsy wall for a light-switch. Light relinquished and sight restored, he leant back against the door, tilting his head upward to stare at the plain ceiling.

 

_Better than a crumbling one... But... still..._

 

Swallowing the sigh that was starting to crawl up his throat, Gon bounced back to his feet and began humming a song - not a song that he particularly enjoyed or liked, but a song that Killua seemed to have a burning hatred of, which in turn, made Gon feel happier; the mental image of Killua yelling, muffled by his hands splayed across his face, in hyperbolised agony was always the default memory for when he needed a reason to grin. Or laugh. Or both and more.

 

Gon wouldn't bat an eyelash if Killua were to beat up a radio with his bare hands if it played even the first couple of seconds of the so-called _'train wreck of a song...'_ ( _'...that should burn in the pits of hell alongside every single ABBA song in existence.'_ he could recall Killua angrily exclaim afterwards, which Gon thought to be an entirely unjust and highly offensive statement - ABBA _is_ a great band, after all.)

 

The song had segued to Dancing Queen by the time Gon had shuffled (to the beat) out of his leather shoes and placed them carefully in their correct place upon the empty rack; one to the left of where Aunt Mito put hers and two spaces to the left of where Granny Abe put hers, on the rare occasion that she visited.

 

And one to the right of another empty spot. 

 

The notes wavered out of tune, dipping several octaves too low until Gon felt something else, not a sigh but something angrier, _rawer,_ ripping his throat. He cleared it out vigorously.

 

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

 

When that proved ineffective, he shook his head insistently; another futile endeavour to shake the thoughts out of his already bombarded mind. He could never shake them out, but if there was one thing he knew that worked it was pushing them into the corner. Pushing them back into the darkest corner of his mind, so they couldn't be seen... for a while, at least.

 

So that was what he did.

 

And it was only after dragging himself around the empty apartment once (to check that maybe he hadn't been heard coming in), sliding in his socks upon the slippery wood around the rooms for a second time (just to double check), and glancing at the only operational clock in the house to guess how long he'd have to wait until Mito-san came back (to which he assumed the answer to be _'too long'_ ), had the thoughts finally been pushed aside.

 

Physically, emotionally and mentally drained, Gon slumped onto the sofa in the room closest to the front door.

 

After glancing back at the clock, then at the closed door, browned eyes eventually lingered upon his stuffed school bag; with a sudden burst of motivation, he hopped back to his feet to take it back to the table and rummage through it, to be greeted with the _oh so_ pleasant sight of crumpled sheets of maths homework that had yet to be even approached, never mind _completed_.

 

Gon soon remembered why they were crumpled in the first place.

 

The page was a mess of symbols and numbers, a pool of illegible numeracy that was supposedly easy to understand, but wasn't; that was (as he was told time and time and time again) _easy,_ but wasn't. Nevertheless, he still smoothed out the paper with a splayed out palm, eventually letting it rest over the messy assortment of formulae so all that he could see was the due date (which was fortunately in more than a week, a date that was exclusively set for Gon) and the grade level:

 

Lower.

 

"Why can't I understand?" He could feel himself murmur absently, voice morose and flat. Gon winced at the thought he had been marginalising for weeks, for months even, it was difficult to keep track when you struggled reading a calendar, and curled his hand into a tightly clenched fist.

 

Feeling his jaw clench, he averted his eyes to something easier to understand; something that didn't make him ache.

 

His eyes landed upon his phone poking out of his bag; a phone that was soon in the palm of his hand before he noticed and calling someone before he realised it - calling someone he didn't even realise that he was _thinking of_. But, as with everything he did, Gon took it in his stride and concentrated on the rhythmic beeping that seemed to elongated by every second, trusting his instinct and his mind to spew out what to say. 

 

It was only when the beeping ended that it hit him: how late it was; how needy it may seem; the fact that he had _no clear purpose for calling whatsoever_.

But that was only when the beeping ended.

And when the call began.

 

 

"Hey, Killua?"

 

 

... Or when the call was _supposed_ to begin.

 

Gon felt his face scrunch into a pout as the only response from his friend was an unsolicited grunt, seemingly irritated and maybe murderous, that rippled from over the line. His fingers twitched impatientally around the phone that was practically pressed into his ear as he awaited a proper reply - anything that wasn't a noise, something that was made of words, a thing he knew Killua was _more than_ capable of doing, perhaps more than he should be.

 

When none came, he switched hands, then switched hands again, until finally settling to toy with the cat charm dangling from the phone.

 

He remembered insisting upon getting couple, best friend, charms with Killua; the idea was instantly rejected with an argument of splutters with the occasional 'idiot' scattered between. Gon let a smile brace his face at the memory of the albino's flushed face and comically raised eyebrows, but it instantaneously fell again at the thought that the aforementioned boy had yet to say anything or even make another sound.

 

 

"KILLUA!"

 

 

A hiss immediately erupted from the phone, followed by a not so soft thunk as the phone clattered heavily onto the not so soft floor. Gon didn't even twitch at the sudden noises... unless you counted exploding into laughter and convulsing with chuckles and giggles as twitching, in which case, he did twitch. _A lot_.

Judging by Killua's disapproving growl, he twitched _too much_.

 

 

"What did you do that for?!"

 

 

"Just to check if you were there!" Gon chirped cheerfully, glad that he had (at last) gotten Killua's full attention.

 

 

"Of course I'm here, where else would I have gone? Actually, don't answer that," Killua heaved a sigh and Gon could practically hear him drag his palm down his face in exasperation. "So... What is it? I was about to go to sleep y'know."

 

 

Gon slumped into the couch, relishing in the comfort and trying to ignore the way springs poked into his back. He rubbed his hands through his hair, pulling a face after feeling grease glue against his fingers.

 

 

"You _know_ that I know that that's not true."

 

 

"Hm," Gon could hear shuffling and the faint (very faint, almost indistinguishably, if it weren't for Gon's abnormal hearing, faint) beeping of Killua's DS (he knew what it was; it was a sound he heard constantly, after all) from over the line. There was more shuffling before Killua spoke again. "Okay, you got me. What's up?"

 

 

"I was thinking-"

 

 

"That's new."

 

 

"Hey! Let me speak!"

 

 

Killua let out a snort and raised his shoulder to push the phone futher against his ear, frowning as the Judge issued the last penalty and the words Guilty flashed mockingly on his DS's screen. He pulled out the game cartridge violently, then crammed it back into its packaging; too angry at the Judge's stupidity (and perhaps the fact that he was bad at a  _lawyer_ game, the only kind of game he was bad at, which of course had to be a game that was his inevitable future occupation) to care about whether the game got damaged or not.

 

 

"Go on, then."

 

 

Gon raised an eyebrow at Killua's irritable tone, but didn't question about it and asked the first acceptable thing that popped into his head.

 

 

"Y'know the words 'selfish' and 'selfless'?"

 

 

"Yes, I know Japanese."

 

 

The amber-eyed adolescent trudged on, ignoring his friend's comment.

 

 

"Anyway! If the word 'selfless' has 'less', then why does the word 'selfish' have 'ish'? Wouldn't it made more sense to be self'more', because the opposite of 'less' is 'more'? What is the opposite of 'ish' anyway? Is there even an opposite? And by saying 'ish', isn't it like saying that being sel- that being _self-absorbed_ isn't _that_ bad? Only bad'ish'?"

 

 

There was only silence for a while, for a very short while, until Killua heaved a sigh, not irritated this time, but seemingly fond. Or maybe that was Gon's sleep deprivation talking. Or maybe it was the optimism. Or maybe it was actually _true_. 

Before Gon could delve any deeper, Killua spoke again, immediately drawing all attention to his words and his words alone.

 

 

"Gon, that's like asking if fish get thirsty or... or what the meaning of life is. Or does Up Dog actually exist?"

 

 

"I don't understand the last one. Where's Up Dog?" Gon asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

 

 

The furrow deepened as Gon heard a reverberating slap echo through the phone, that sounded suspiciously like, what Gon assumed to be, a face palm. It was a sound he was accustomed to, or rather, a sound that he was used to hearing from Killua.

 

 

"Of course you decided Up Dog was a place. Of frickin' course."  

 

 

"Who's Up Dog?"

 

 

Another face palm.

 

 

"It's not a person! Who in their right mind would call their child Up Dog?! You're meant to say-"

 

 

"What's up dog?"

 

 

"Yes! Finally! Though I guess it's not as funny when they fail the _first two fucking times,_ " Killua sucked in a breath to exhale an impressive yawn, "Well, it's been fun Gon, but I better be going now, yanno, sleep and all that useful stuff that teenagers like us need," He paused, trying to repress another yawn but failing, so that his last words almost went unheard, groggy with weariness, "that includes you, doofus. Quit being philosophical and get some sleep."

 

 

Gon grinned, feeling drowsiness descend upon him and a yawn of his own creeping up his chest. His eyelids felt heavy, and the sofa began to feel softer and comfier and fluffier; the strings felt like gentle pokes to his sides. He didn't even hear, or if he did, didn't react to, the door opening and closing softly behind him.

 

 

"G'night Killua... but what _is_ Up Do-"

 

 

The phone beeped conclusively, though it didn't matter when it was out of his reach, clattered on the floor.

 

Aunt Mito grinned at tranquillity on Gon's face and retrieved his blanket to drape over his sleeping form. Noticing a stray hair upon his face, she stroked it back, ran her fingers through his hair twice, and laid a gentle kiss on his forehead.

 

 

"Welcome home, Gon." She whispered, before switching the light off, smile small but soft on her own face, one that matched Gon's own.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These ideas were made very late... er... early in the morning, so that's my excuse I guess?
> 
> No excusing the ABBA references in there though. I'm so very, very sorry about those... I know it's not incredibly Japanese, but there's only so much research I can handle. Plus, I like references... so if there's something that seems a bit out of place in whatever I write, it's probably one B)


	9. Minor sprains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killua being a snarky little shit and Gon putting up with it. Barely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know their friendship may seem a bit rushed, but there's been a few months time skip and it's not like Killua is an introvert soooo yeahhh. Yup, I'm one of those writers. On the plus side, plot progression alas ;)
> 
> Constructive criticism is great! And so is feedback, or kudos, or somehow managing to read this trash! So tysm for bearing with me this far! :D

 

 

"Killua, I've got a question,"

 

 

It wasn't an unusual declaration for Gon to make; if anything, it would have been unusual for Gon _not_ to say it, after asking Killua something irrelevant daily... or hourly... or just too much in general. But there was something different about the way Gon said the words - quiet, tentative and almost withdrawn - that suggested that the matter at hand wasn't the usual 'how do you get your hair so fluffy?' or 'is your smell natural?' kind of matter.

 

Taking all of this in, Killua briefly halted all movement, briefly ceased to even _breathe_ , before covering up the hesitation by hoisting the weight upon his back and then feigning disinterest as he continued walking.

His head remained facing forward; his eyes glaring daggers at the murmuring onlookers scattered around the hallway, but he didn't need to see to know what Gon's eyes were fixated upon.

The hairs prickling on the nape of his neck was enough of a sign.

 

_More than enough._

 

Killua only responded when the intent gaze steered to look elsewhere - maybe the celling, maybe the floor, though for some reason, Killua assumed it was neither - and he let out a cautious hum of acknowledgement, just about loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough so that the cracks in his voice were unnoticeable.

 

To others, anyway.

 

 

"I've been thinking about it for a while now," Gon eventually continued, pronouncing the syllables languidly, as if he were deliberating every word that came out of his mouth - before they even came out of his mouth, even.

The very thought made Killua's fingers twitch.

Gon wasn't, _definitely_ wasn't, a person that structured his ideas before speaking. Unless the situation called for it.

 

This seemed to be one of those situations.

 

Noticing that he had stopped to stand still for the second time in mere minutes, Killua picked up the pace and heaved a lengthy sigh, laced with (what he hoped to sound like) irritation and impatience.

 

 

"C'mon then."

 

 

The weight on Killua's back tensed, leaned backwards, before sagging forward soon after, repositioning the limbs wrapped around Killua's neck and waist to a loose, but firmer, grip.

 

 

_This is it,_ Killua thought, _this is what I've been expecting for months._

He swallowed the lump in his throat and gnawed at his lower lip to direct his attention towards the taste of iron rather than the mantra growing steadily louder, reverberating, echoing around his mind.

Never-ending.

_I'm not ready._

_Not ready, not ready, not ready._

 

 

Shattering the silence, Gon spoke slowly, "It's about..." The arms around Killua's neck squeezed for a short moment, but they must have felt Killua's trembling _(how could they not?)_ because they went loose and, soon after, something changed.

All the... emotion diminished, suddenly dissipating like a pin to a balloon; leaving Killua to blink in uncertainty at what had happened. Uncertainty of whether the tension was fake. Uncertainty of whether it was there in the first place.

 

 

But before Killua could dwell on the thought, Gon spoke up again, voice loud and bright - how it should be. "It's about milk!" Gon's voice trailed off into a whine as Killua scoffed in disbelief, "Seriously though Killua! Isn't the idea of milk just so weird? Like, who would just decide to squeeze a cow's udders? And then _drink_ that?"

 

 

"Why do you always ask _me_ the weird questions?"

 

 

"Because you always have the best answers!"

 

 

"Lucky me," Killua mumbled to himself before taking in a deep breath in preparation for a lengthy explanation. Gon fidgeted in anticipation. "This is all me guessing here but, first we probably saw the animal's offspring drinking from the udders, nipples, whatever, and then saw they were growing, then we connected the dots and realised: _'hey those are like those lumps that tiny humans drink from to grow too!'_   Boom, human greed and curiosity takes over; we molest some animals; the liquid turns to taste a bit better than dirty water and the process is enjoyable too, so here we are." Killua paused to recover a few, much needed, breaths, before finishing it all off, " _Or_ maybe a person tripped over, had an anime moment with the cow and somehow got squirted in the face. Take your pick."

 

 

It was only when Gon laughed, very, _very_ , loudly, when he realised the amount of enthusiasm he had (too much) and the amount of fun he had (also too much) from giving the explanation; he ducked his head and realised his hold on one of the legs around his waist to scratch his flushed cheek absently.  

 

 

"Good enough for ya?"

 

 

"Nn!" Gon nodded his head resolutely, grin broad across his face. "You're really smart Killua!"

 

 

Killua steps slowed and he didn't reply for a few moments, instead focusing on keeping balance whilst beginning to ascend up the seemingly infinite staircase to get to the right floor.

 

 

"Really?"

 

 

"Really."

 

 

"Hm," Gon eyes narrowed and focused on the small downturn of the corner of Killua's lips. "Well, it's good to see I didn't waste all those hours at cram school for nothing."

 

 

Although Killua's tone suggested nonchalance, they held a certain edge of melancholy to them, something that didn't go unnoticed by Gon, alongside how his usually bright(er) eyes had become half-mast.

 

Hazy.

Unfocused.

Decidedly _not_ sparkling.

 

Gon yelped as he felt a rough pinch to his thigh and immediately looked downward to stare at the culprit, with what he hoped to be an angry frown and not a pout, who had continued walking quicker up the steps, face free of any expression, excluding the twitching of the corner of his mouth.

 

To Gon's relief, it was twitching upwards.

 

 

"What was that for?!"

 

 

"You were zoning out and I wanted to make sure that your brain didn't implode."

 

 

"Gee, thanks." The skin that had been pinched stung in spite.

 

 

"You have another thing you wanna ask, right? You've got that stupid curious look on your face again."

 

 

Gon's lips pursed into a pout. "Stupid?!"

 

 

"So you _have_ got a few, then."

 

 

_Believe me, I have more than a few..._ Gon thought, mouthing, but not saying, the words against the back of Killua's head and into his tuffs of hair. Nuzzling his cheek into wispy white, he said the second thing that came into his head.

Well fourth, if you excluded rambling about how soft and silky Killua's hair was and any creepy (Gon had done enough social research - talking to his Aunt - to know that those thoughts weren't the kind of thing to casually bring up into conversation) statements about his scent.

He pushed aside the fact that he actually had asked Killua about those things at one point, and picked a question to ask.

 

 

"Um, how do you think people would have explained the idea of milk? Without putting people off drinking it?"

 

 

"I doubt they would have given a shit. I mean, they ate eggs, right?" Killua responded immediately, tilting his head slightly upward. A mischievous smile was beginning to stretch across of his face. 

 

 

"I guess so..."  Gon said warily, paying acute attention to how Killua's smirk was growing steadily wider by the second.

 

 

"And, from how they probably saw it, these birds basically pooped 'em out. Even now, the idea is gross, but people still eat them... We're practically eating chicken embryos. Unformed. Chicks." Killua's movement slowed until he had synched his drawled out syllables to each step.

 

 

"Don't word it like that KilluARGH!"

 

 

Gon's arm unravelled from around Killua's neck to rub at the place of impact on his head.

 

_So that was his plan._

 

Gon glared from up at the doorframe, that had had a brief (and pretty, _very_ , painful) meeting with his skull, to Killua's face. The face that was flushed red with overt laughter; laughter, for once, not hidden by the back of his hand.

Open for everyone to see.

No... open for _Gon_ to see.

The thought had overtaken any irritation or pain and Gon smiled to himself, redness bursting upon his own face.

 

It took a while until Killua could speak again.

 

 

"You- You totally could've ducked that, y'know," He wheezed out between snickers, "Unless the amazing athlete Gon Freecss is losing his skill...?"

 

 

"As if!" The arm around Killua's neck had re-positioned, but the grip was slightly tighter than before, more cautious. "That was impossible to duck!"

 

 

"I dunno Gon, I have to admit, your reaction time _is_ pretty good. Or should I say, _was_ good?"

 

 

"You practically threw me into it!" Gon huffed, whined words muffled by tuffs of Killua's hair. "You're so bad at giving piggybacks, Killua."

 

 

The white-haired boy shook his head, muttering something about ignorance under his breath, before stopping at the sight of the nurse's office. He let his grip slip, but took care to not brush the bruising on the other's calf.

 

 

"Well, you're worse at receiving them." Killua refuted, offering his shoulders as support after seeing the way Gon winced at an attempt to put weight on the leg. The offer was accepted grudgingly. 

 

 

"Was it really necessary to give me one anyway? We could've just done this-"

 

 

When Killua knocked on the door, a part of him knew he had done it probably louder than it should have been, but that tiny, miniscule part got instantly hushed because it worked to his advantage in three ways:

 

1\. It shut Gon up.

 

2\. It meant they would get in quicker, thus shutting Gon up.

 

And 3. It would mean a person equally, if not more, as loud as Gon would start talking, which in turn, drowned Gon's original point out or shut him up.

 

  _Though,_ Killua thought as a gruff and stressed voice beckoned them in, _I think the last point is more of a hindrance than anything._  

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh it's you brats- Gon! What happened?!"

 

 

Killua could feel his eyes rolling into his skull as a suited man all but _jumped_ from his desk to rush over to the boys. Pliantly, Killua let the man lead Gon to the bed to get his leg examined.

 

Leaving Gon to sheepishly explain the predicament _('it was just a hurdle, I guess I was running too fast...')_ and the trainee Doctor to express his concern in his strange, noisy way _(''just a hurdle' my ass!'),_ Killua wandered aimlessly around the room, tinkering with the occasional object and high-fiving the limp skeleton.

 

 

 "You better not be messing with anything back there, you little shit!" Leorio shouted, head whipping from Gon's leg to the sudden clattering behind him.

 

 

"Don't worry gramps! Your little 'stationary village' is in tact..." Killua drawled back, purposefully slamming the objects against the desk to contradict his statement, but wincing after the pencil snapped in half. "...mostly."

 

 

"Brat," Leorio grumbled under his breath, touching the bruise on Gon's calf one last time before standing up and dusting himself down. The scowl disappeared as quickly as it came and he beamed widely at Gon, giving a thumbs up before retrieving an ice pack and throwing it over his shoulder. Gon caught the pack easily and sent a quick thumbs up back, smile broad and never faltering, even when he pressed the ice against his calf. "Well, kiddo, luckily for you it's only a minor sprain, but you _do_ know what to do if I'm not here, right?"

 

 

"Uh, right!" Gon chirped distractedly, too busy peeking around Leorio to listen to the words flowing out of his rapidly moving mouth. He reigned in a chuckle as he saw Killua's eyes flash electric blue at the sight of Leorio's infamous glasses and, soon after, hurry over to a mirror whilst twirling the accessory around his finger.

 

 

"The custom is RICE, which stands for Rest, which I know is difficult for a boy with your energy to do, but it's important-" Killua slipped on the glasses and snickered silently at the sight of himself in the mirror. He made eye contact with Gon and whisked around, lips curled upward in a cat-like grin, "and the C is for compression, so tie your t-shirt around the injury, or whatever, I'm sure the girls wouldn't mind-" Gon couldn't hold back the laughter any longer when Killua popped up behind Leorio's shoulder, one of his ties knotted hurriedly around his neck and began impersonating him, lips moving to what Leorio had been talking about (something about food?) with his chest puffed out.

Gon lost it when the rim of the glasses was pushed against his nose and he snorted pretentiously.

 

They hadn't even noticed Leorio had stopped speaking. About food at least.

 

 

"Put those back, you little shit!"

 

  
If Killua had heard Leorio, he paid it no mind.

 

  
"Woah! These are actually really impractical! I mean," Killua bounced back to easily dodge one of Leorio's swipes. "They're so tiny! And uncomfortable," Another dodge, another snicker. "And I can't see out of them at all!"

 

 

"Killua."

 

 

"Liorio."

 

 

" _Killua_."

 

 

"L'oreal."

 

 

"That doesn't even make sense!"

 

 

"These _glasses_ don't make sense-"

 

 

 Gon tilted his head to the side, heaving out an exasperated sigh. Feeling obligated to end it, even if it _was_ pretty entertaining to watch, he finally stepped in. Verbally.

 

 

"Killua!"

 

 

The aforementioned boy's drawling ended instantaneously at the call of his name, and he whisked his head from out of Leorio's face to the direction the call came from, attention fully centred on Gon.

His eyes wavered from Gon's face to his leg, eyebrows locking downward as he noticed the icepack. An 'are you okay now?' almost slipped off of his tongue, but it was swallowed back when Killua saw the stern expression on his face and his unimpressed posture, arms crossed and back straight.

He heard Leorio tut then murmur something about pushovers into a closed fist, though he couldn't bring himself to care when Gon was looking at him like... _that_.

 

 

"Fine! It was getting boring fast anyway." He pushed the glasses back into Leorio's splayed open, expectant palm. Not even seconds later, he curled his fingers around them protectively and pushed them carefully into his pocket.

 

 

 "Thanks Gon; just for you, I'll fix you up next time for free of charge."

 

 

Gon laughed, covering up the wince that the action caused with a stretch.

 

 

"You do it for free anyway."

 

 

 "Not for everyone." Leorio sent a glare Killua's way, who was being surprisingly still for once, hands in pockets and eyes glued to Gon's swollen leg.

 

 

"Good thing that I'm not the reckless one here, then."

 

 

Killua's eyes didn't waver.

 

 

"Well, keep it that way." Leorio said, looking right at Killua as he said the words slowly, as if speaking some sort of code. Killua nodded, apparently understanding what he meant, and replied absently.

 

 

"Yeah, I know. I will."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always sorta wanted to draw the whole scene of Killua stealing Leorio's glasses, but I've never gotten around to it and I'm not very confident with my drawing gah, so that's why it's here! And I've got a shit tonne of scenarios like that omg.
> 
> Also, piggybacking. It's very canonical, so I just thought I'd put it in here, albeit more cutesy than in canon, but hey, those piggybacks are always angsty and I don't know if I can handle writing angst atm. Idk how other writers can do it. THE PAIN!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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